


Rerequited

by Archaic_Legend



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Anal Sex, Dildos, Dom/sub, Double Penetration, F/M, Hawke Dies, Light BDSM, Light Bondage, Rough Sex, Spanking, Wall Sex, Whipping
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-28
Updated: 2018-01-09
Packaged: 2018-04-06 16:23:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 26,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4228716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Archaic_Legend/pseuds/Archaic_Legend
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Even given all he had been through Cullen still held a torch for Solona Amell, Warden Commander and Hero of Ferelden, but over the years he had lost hope of ever seeing her again. Until one day when he is called into a briefing with the Inquisitor and a special VIP.</p><p>Note: This work will contain spoilers for Dragon Age: The Calling, Dragon Age Vol. 1: The Silent Grove, Dragon Age Volume 2: Those Who Speak and Dragon Age Volume 3: Until We Sleep</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Reacquaintance

**Author's Note:**

> It is Cullen appreciation week so I thought I should start posting one of my WIP Cullen pieces :)

He made his way through Skyhold quickly, hopefully this meeting wouldn't last long. He did not have time to pamper to simpering lordlings with delusions of grandeur, he had hoped he could get through the bulk of his work before the drills that afternoon but now it looked like it would be a late one again. He didn't even know what this was about. All the messenger would say is that they had a visiting dignitary and the Inquisitor that requested his presence. He hoped that it wasn't another one of Josephine's interested parties who had been badgering him since they had returned from the ball. He made his way swiftly down the corridor to the war room. The door was open and he could see the inquisitor talking avidly with someone, his hands indicating various points on the large map stretched across the table. He could see another set of hands, female hands, pointing out other features on the map. The inquisitor nodded in response, his face taking on a pensive cast. Great! Another _'I have read all the books on war so I am an expert'_ noble. "Blasted nobles," he muttered under his breath. With an irritated sigh he entered the war room, the second occupant coming into view. It was if his brain had hit the emergency breaks. In front of him stood Solona Amell, the Hero of Fereldan. She looked up as he entered and their eyes met. He had never forgotten those grey-green eyes or long dark lashes and the sight of them shot straight to his heart with a familiar ache . He felt his mouth go dry, the only sound he could hear was the rushing of the blood in his ears. Then the desire hit him. If it was possible she had gotten even more beautiful with age. She had always been tall and well built, but the curves that she had been just developing as she left the circle had gone into full bloom. He felt the blood rush to his face, it had always been like this with her. He saw the answering flush in her own cheeks, her pupils dilating. 'Makers breath!'  
"Ser Cullen?" She said her familiar voice held a strained note he had heard only once before. The memory came back in full force. He was rushing through the corridors oblivious to the gawking of the tower’s inhabitants. _She was leaving…. She was to join the wardens … He wouldn't see her again._ The thoughts raced around his mind as panic gripped him. He had raced to find her as soon has he had heard, praying to the Marker that he was not too late. It was only that morning that he had turned her advances away and now he was cursing his restraint. He loved her, he had always loved her and now she would be gone. He came to a stop as he entered the dorm. He saw the familiar figure sitting on her bunk, a small bag of her possessions at her side.  
“Sol,” he croaked his voice unstrung. She looked up her tear streaked face lighting up. She had raced to him her arms flinging about his neck.  
"Cullen." Was all she had said and he had kissed her. It was the kiss that still haunted his dreams, the dance of her tongue with his the salt tang of her tears. Her magic dancing in his lyrium laced veins. The purr of pleasure that she made as he crushed her against him, heedless of the steel plate biting into her soft flesh. The demon had found that memory had used it twisted it. Even now his burning desire held a twinge of fear. The Inquisitor looked up from the map nodding to Cullen.  
"It is just Cullen now," he said his voice sounding far more steady than he thought possible. "It is good to see you Sol."  
"Ahh you two know each other, of course I forgot. That's good." He cast a look at the map. "We will have to wait for Leliana's report but I think your idea has merit." He turned to Cullen. "The Warden Commander will be helping to plan our assault on Adamant. I said you would be happy to walk her through the state of our forces."  
"Of course Inquisitor.” He tilted his head trying to hide his eagerness.  
"We have about another hour here, I can show her to your office when we are done."  
"I know where it is.” Solona smiled. "Josephine pointed it out during the tour.” She turned her beautiful eyes back to him. "The Inquisitor mentioned you were running drills this afternoon, I would be interested in attending if you don't mind."  
"We would be honoured to have your input."  
"I thought I might participate.” His mind conjured up images of her in the Inquisition’s firm fitting training armour and his blood heated further. His erection which was already uncomfortable became painful. He silently thanked the maker that he had chosen his tight smalls today.  
"You would be welcome to," he nodded to her. "An hour then."  
Her smile sent his heart racing again, "An hour."

He sat at his desk an hour later having accomplished absolutely nothing. It was as if he were suffering from the early stages of lyrium withdrawal again. His moods would shift suddenly, happiness, anger, paranoia and anxiety. He couldn't sit still, he couldn't focus. He stood again and began pacing, his steps in time with the litany in his mind. 'She is here. She is here.....' At the centre of it sat his terror. The demons had used her face, he needed to control his desire for her. _'Control yourself! Discipline!'_ He was so immersed in his self lecture that he didn't here the door quietly open and close. He spun around again and saw her leaning against the door. He froze mid stride, caught in her sea tossed gaze.  
"Cullen." Her voice was breathy soft and hopeful. The little control he had left snapped. In two strides he was on her, crushing her between his body and the door. His feverish lips found hers and they parted at the touch of his tongue. He plundered her mouth with all the desperation of a drowning man fighting for air. He felt her hands running over his body and into his hair. He ground his aching groin into hers and she moaned into his mouth. He knew with unwavering certainly that if they didn't stop right now he would not be able to. He broke the kiss just long enough to mutter against her lips.  
"Sol tell me to stop." He looked into her eyes their stormy hue a mere hint around her pupils. She fisted her hands tighter in his hair and pulled his mouth back down to hers with a ferocity that left him grinding against her. He swallowed her gasps of pleasure, driving his tongue deeper. He had to feel her. With a frustrated curse he ripped off his gauntlet a second later she had removed his breastplate and let it drop to the floor with a clang. He had no patience for the small buttons of her dress shirt with a growl he pulled. The buttons few appart bouncing along the floor and off the walls. Finally he could touch her. At the first touch of his hands on her heated skin they both shuddered, years of wanting behind every stroke. She ran her own hands up under his shirt caressing his skin making his blood burn. With a rough jerk he tore her breast band off and her breasts tumbled free. Hungrily he dropped kissed his way down her neck running his tongue across the sensitive flesh. She shivered as he moved lower. Her breasts were magnificent, they overflowed even his large hands, a soft creamy abundance. When he took one of her olive nipples into his mouth, she gasped arching against him. His mind was a mess of desire and sensation, he worked at the laces of her britches with one hand sliding them down just enough to dip a finger into her. Maker she was wet.  
"Cullen," she moaned. "Please." He pulled her britches down in one swift move. He stood and kissed her his finger rubbing against her sensitive nub. He could feel her hands struggling with the laces of his britches as he stroked her. He smiled nipping along her neck as she alternated between pleasured moans and frustrated curses. And then he was free her hands on him, around him. He almost came in her hand at the first touch. He needed her, needed to be inside her. With an effort he picked her up his hands clutching at her full arse. He pushed her hard against the door stroking himself against her hot core, lubricating himself with her juices. He paused his phallus nudging her entrance, once they did this there was no going back. He looked into her eyes his own emotions and desires mirrored in her beautiful face. Pressing his lips to hers he pushed into her in one fluid stroke. She cried out his name and he swallowed it. Stars burst behind his eyes, never could he have imagined. Her body sparked, small uncontrolled sparks of raw power danced across her skin. Normally such displays of uncontrolled magic would have disturbed him, but he was too far gone. He thrust into her over and again. Drinking in her pleasured cries. Her magic crawled through him making his lyrium starved senses sing. He pulled on her mana as he pulled out, pushing it back as he thrust causing her to spasms around him. He needed more. Unsteadily he carried he to his desk, she fluttered around him, squeezing him as he walked. He almost didn't make it. His legs quivering he pushed her onto his desk pushing papers, bottles and reports crashing to the floor. Pushing her back he climbed on top of her pushing into her harder and faster. He sucked one of her nipples in between his lips and she bucked against him crying out her pussy squeezing him deliciously. He was so close, but he wouldn't, not without her. He reached between them caressing her clit with his fingers. He felt her crest and he thrust into her, she heard her cry his name and she spasmed around him. "Solona!" He cried crashing into her. The world went white in a violent wave of pleasure. He fell against her his body spasming. They lay like that for a long time, their heat beats gradually returning to normal. Her fingers entwined themselves with his, her thumb ran slowly against his. He looked at her, in all of his dreams he could never imagined the vision that lay across his desk at that moment. She smiled at him.  
"Maker Cullen. I--" a sharp rap at the door interrupted her. Cullen’s jumped up.  
"You even think of opening that door and I will feed you to Corypheus myself!"  
"I ..... Ummmm.... The Drills Commander." Then the sound of running feet echoed into the distance.  
"Maker's Breath!" He sighed. He felt soft fingers trace along his exposed hip bone. He shuddered desire curling in his belly.  
"Well Commander it looks like it is time to put me through my paces." She walked past him a glorious naked vision, he caught her hand pulling her against him.  
"Oh I plan to," he said, his voice low. Her hips brushed against his and his cock stiffened pushing against her quim. She bit her lip as she tilted her head to his, the kiss was short and fiery. Groaning he released her, she smiled at him and moved to dress. Watching her dress was torturous, with an effort he tucked himself away and went to find his strewn pieces of armour. She managed to salvage her breast band but when she came to her shirt she grinned at him, her eyes glinting.  
"You don't happen to have a spare shirt do you? Mine seems to have suffered an accident." He blushed.  
"I .. Ah.... Ummm.. Just a moment." He ascended to his room. He could smell her scent on him, making his cock twitch. With a sigh he pulled off his over shirt and then his his under shirt. He heard a humm of pleasure, turning he realised belatedly that she had followed him. She took his worn under shirt out of his hands, smiling she pulled it over her head.  
"Mmmmm still warm," she said nuzzling the collar and taking a deep breath in. His heart sped up, the sight of her in his shirt was unexpectedly intimate and erotic. What the hell was wrong with him? It was like he was eighteen all over again. He must have been frowning because, she looked down her face reddening. "I'm sorry..... I.....I just...." She moved her hands to the hem of the shirt starting to pull it up. "I just wanted to feel like... you were with me." The last part spilled out of her in a barely audible whisper. He moved forward stilling her hands.  
"Sol." He turned her face up to his, his eyes searching hers. He saw the ache and the vulnerability there. She always came across as so confident, slightly cocky, with everyone except him. He remembered the stilted blushing conversations in the Tower. Neither able to get through a whole sentence without falling over themselves. "You have always had me." He stroked her cheek. "Always." She let out a shuddering breath as if a huge weight had been lifted of her shoulders.  
“As have you."  
"If we don't leave here now we may never." He said turning her and giving her a pat on the backside, the leather of her breeched making a satisfying thwack. He heard her breath catch in her throat, a pleasured sigh following. Interesting he thought to himself as she shot him as she started to make her way down the ladder. "Sol." She paused looking up at him. "You and me here, dinner tonight."  
"Is that an order Ser?" He felt his cock harden at the honorific.  
"Absolutely." He said, she gave him a smile that almost had him ordering back up the ladder. Very interesting. He thought as he watched her disappear below the floor line. Shaking his head he readied himself, he was the Commander of the Inquisition demonstrating the prowess of his forces to the Warden Commander of Ferelden. As he made his way down he saw the shambles that his office was in. He grimaced guiltily, he would have to clean before dinner. He stepped on something and almost slipped. Stopping he bent down and picked up one of Solona's buttons. He smiled tucking it into his pocket next to the coin his brother had given him so many years ago. Now a bit of her was with him, he patted his pocket and made his way to the practice field. Closing and locking the door behind him.


	2. Recalcitrance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sparring fun. With Dorian's aid Cullen begins to work out what the desires he is feeling mean and would put them into practice, if it weren't for the pesky attack by demon bound wardens.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not a particularly smutty chapter but I swear I will make it up to you with the next one :)

Rydan had already started the troops on their warm ups by the time Cullen arrived.  
"I have placed the Warden Commander with the Templar recruits," he said in way of greeting. Rydan gave him a sideways look, "She is definitely pushing them, it is quite remarkable." Cullen nodded not trusting himself to say anything. He made his way long the lines adjusting a shield angle here, footwork there, demonstrating blows and counter blows. He slowed as he approached the training Templars. It had been years since he had seen her fight, but it was still incredible to watch. He would never forget the sight of her storming into the tower robes billowing, dark hair moving as if it was a living thing caught in her magic. He could still taste tang of her magic as it slid sparking across his skin. He shook his head those memories were not ones he wanted to venture into idly. They had found her a padded sleeveless gambeson, he could see his shirt underneath. He tried not to smile, but could feel his heart warm. Her fighting style had changed. In one hand she held a sword the other swirled with power, the four Templars that faced her seemed hesitant and unsure. She grinned at them,  
"Look I'll make it easy on you." She snapped her fingers. "No magic." She shifted her hold on the sword, moving to a classic two handed stance. The first Templar moved, a classic shield charge. Nimble feat carried her just enough out of the way to avoid the blow allowing a humiliating back strike across the Templars exposed flank. Others followed, she moved with a practiced grace striking, parrying, dodging and disarming. Her opponents moved as a team, as he had trained, but he could see cracks forming in their discipline. He frowned, as one dashed forward sloppily. Something in the way she faced them had them completely undone. She moved with a relaxed casualness that was rather unsettling, but what was worse was her humour. Amusement radiated from her setting even his carefully trained combat senses to tingling. It was impressive to watch.  
"Come now, you are supposed to be the Inquisitions elite." Without thinking Cullen stepped forward.  
“Do the Warden’s rely on crude baiting now? I expected more," he snapped, his voice clipped. Her eyes snapped to him sparkling.  
"Ahhh Commander glad you could join us.” A wicked grin spread across her face as another of his recruits tried to take advantage of her distraction, dancing lightly she ducked under the blow cutting their feet out from under them and landing a solid blow to their midsection. “Tut tut!” The insolence in the way she fought spurred him to action.  
“Well Warden Commander now you are warmed up, perhaps you would do me the honour of a bout.” She grinned at him.  
“I wouldn't want to embarrass you in front of your troops.” He felt the challenge pull at him. His eyes snapped to hers, a spark leapt between them. Something stirred inside him, prowling, roaring to take up the challenge. Her gaze heated, he could feel the repressed power crawling within her, just below the surface. He smirked tilting his head accepting the challenge. He quickly shed his bulky armour stripping down to his shirt. A recruit raced forward with a padded gambeson, sword and shield.  
“Now Warden Commander,” he said moving forward. “Are you ready to play?” He idly rolled his shoulders stretching and loosening the muscles. He could feel her eyes on him.  
"Same rules? No magic?" He felt a smile tug at his lips.  
"Not at all, I wouldn’t want to leave you at a disadvantage." He felt the pull of his long dormant Templar abilities. Her eyebrow quirked and he felt the air chill as she shot an ice bolt at him, he caught it easily on his shield. He could feel her power swirling but restrained, she was holding back. He pulled on her mana, it flowed into him. Maker! The rush. Even as a Templar drawing on a mage’s mana was pleasurable but this! The feel of her mana, it was like nothing he had experienced. It sparked inside him, caressing his mind. He clenched his jaw, trying to ignore the arousal throbbing through him. He shot a look over his shield, her eyes had narrowed, he had her attention at least. He rushed forward and she phased, he pulled up quickly turning and bringing his sword around. He felt the wooden blade hit, it was only a glancing blow but she chuckled.  
"This is more like it." They traded testing blows, feeling out each other's defences. She grinned at him her eyes glinting, he met her battle madness with his own. They danced backwards and forward testing the boundaries, pushing and pulling. He lunged and felt her blade graze his shoulder  
'Maker! she is quick'. She feigned right, he brought up his shield to block only to find she had phased. He ducked shield up, and kicked out with his feet. She was ready, jumping to the side managing a glancing blow to his backside. He heard her chuckle. Raising an eyebrow at her, he pressed her hard. She danced back sending a stone fist at him. The power of the blow jarred his shoulder, he spun out of the way shaking his shield arm. He felt the air around him sizzle, without thinking he smite her. She staggered. He moved forward pressing his advantage, she grinned. Falling to her knees and sending a fire ball towards his chest under his shield. He moved quickly turning from the blast, but he felt it singe his gambeson. Turning he struck the ground with his sword nullifying the area. He pulled on her mana and pushed her forward the co-ordinated attack catching her off balance and he managed to get in a good wack to her left shoulder. She pulled back circling him. He saw her roll her shoulder, in his minds eye he saw her naked torso a puckered scar ran along it. She took advantage of his distraction landing a solid blow to the right side of his ribs. Pain blossomed through him, it was a good hit. Rushing forward he pushed her on the left. Blow after blow using both shield and sword. She turned swapping the sword into that hand, trying to fend off his attack. He pushed harder, she rolled underneath his shield. He caught the movement of her lips. He silenced her, pulling on her manna as he did so. She phased through him. Sweat rolled down his back, he was getting tired. He had not used his Templar abilities in a long time. While he didn't need lyrium to use them, it was a lot harder without it. He watched her, she rolled her shoulder and grimaced, pushing her left side had really taken it out of her. He saw her start to cast and he drew on her mana, she was expecting it. Instead of resisting she pushed her mana into him. He gasped falling to one knee, pleasure sang through him. He looked up just in time to watch her shoot a stream of ice at him. He raised his shield, he felt it freeze, then with a jolt that left his arm stinging it shattered. He turned left and she moved right but instead of striking with her blade she moved in close using her momentum to bring him down onto the ground. Straddling him she poised for the kill her blade at his throat. The roar of the crowd was muted, his gaze narrowed to hers.  
"Yield," she said, softly. His lip quirked as he looked up at her, she was tired, he could see the inattention clawing at her.  
"No." He moved suddenly grabbing her wrists with one hand and flipping them over. Her blade was flung aside as his body pressed hers into the ground. He felt the stir of her magic and his smirk broadened. "We can't have that.” He puled on her mana. "Yield," he said his voice low his face inches from hers.  
“You’d like that," she whispered defiantly her gaze heated. He pulled on her manna draining her further. He lent forward, his lips almost brushing her ear. Her scent engulfed him, rosemary, lavender and a metallic hint almost like lyrium, but not quite. With a sideways smirk he pushed her mana back into her. He watched her bite her lip trying not to cry out.  
"Do you yield?" He said quietly. She grinned at him a wicked glint in her eye, but she raised her hands. It was not enough, he was struck by the desire to hear her say the words. "Say it," he ordered. He saw her breath catch the pulse in her throat jumping. He held steady watching the battle with in her. She wanted to yield he could see it, but would she.  
"I..” He watched as she swallowed her gaze clouding with desire. Her voice when it came was soft, an almost inaudible sigh "...yield, Commander.” It came out in a shudder her body trembling with something akin to release. Relief hit him and he sagged his forehead touching hers lightly, they paused like that for a heartbeat. Something between them had shifted he wasn’t quite sure what yet, but it had. It was then the cheering of the crowd came back he stiffened, she smiled up at him and winked. Taking a deep breath in she shouted, "You have me bested me Serah.” The cheering and whooping of the crowd crashed around them. He stood carefully, trying to retain some illusion of professional distance. Putting his hand down to her he pulled her up. Standing she brushed herself off and put out her hand. "I'm impressed Commander," she said shaking his with all strict professionalism, but her eyes were dark and heated. He looked to the cheering crowd that had gathered to watch, there was no way they were going to get them back to practice again.  
"I think we are done for the day, Dismissed!" He said to with a wave of his hand. 

She sighed and sagged onto the bed, rubbing her left shoulder. "Stupid damn shoulder," she muttered, wincing. Cullen sat beside her brushing her hand out of the way.  
"Let me." Putting is gloves aside he gently pushed on the shoulder feeling out the problem areas. "What happened to it?" He asked conversationally as he began to put pressure on the knots.  
"First some random Hurlock managed to stick his blade through it, the archdemon--" She groaned a mix of pain an pleasure crossing her face. "And then a brood mother decided to stab her tentacley nastiness through--" Cullen pressed his thumbs down and her shoulder made a crunching pop. "Maker!" She gasped gingerly rotating it, then sighed.  
"Better?" He said running his hand down her back.  
"Mmmmm hmm," she sighed.  
"Why didn't you heal it?"  
"I did what I could, even Anders couldn't do much after the brood mother did her thing and he was a damn good healer." His hands stilled on her back.  
"Anders?"  
"He was a grey warden that I recruited from the Ferelden circle. He died defending the keep at Amaranthine, did you know him?" She turned to him her stormy eyes studying his face. "Cullen what's wrong?"  
"I am not sure I am the best person to....." He looked away from her.  
“Cullen tell me." He sighed.  
"Anders .... He didn't die in Amaranthine, he fled to Kirkwall. Ahh ... He .... He was the one who blew up the chantry."  
"He what!?!"  
"Hawke would be a better person to explain what happened," he said quietly.  
"Are you telling me that Anders, one of MY wardens is not only not dead but is the one who lit the fuze that set this whole shit storm in motion."  
"I am not sure he is the same man you knew, he was possessed by a --"  
"Justice!" She spat, she jumped up pacing. "I will kill them both. When Anders had died, Justice returned Kristof's body to his wife I though the spirit had gone back to the fade. He said that was his plan. The bastard lied to me! Where are they?" Cullen was taken a back at her fury. He had come to terms with the events in Kirkwall as much as he could, he had forgotten the raw pain of it. She turned to him. "Where are they Cullen?" He could feel the power rolling off her, buffeting him. He saw her then, not as Solona, but the Hero of Ferelden and Warden Commander. He gave her a measuring look.  
“Did you let me win today?" It took a moment for the question to register, when it did she looked sheepishly away. "Sol?"  
"It's good for morale," she murmured. He stood giving her his best Commander stare, if it were possible she looked even more guilt stricken. "I'm sorry," she said quietly. "I didn't think you'd mind, truly." He was hard pressed not to burst out laughing, but now he had diverted her attention he was not going to loose the opportunity. He moved to her his hands grasping her hips firmly.  
"We'll just have to work out a way for you to repay me," he purred pulling her against him.  
"Commander are you trying to distract me?" She sighed as he kissed his way along her neck.  
"I am trying to work out a fitting punishment for your insolence," He murmured against her skin.  
"My insol--- oh!" He bit her lightly on the shoulder.  
"You bated my troops," He said his hand skimming up underneath her shirt.  
“If they can't..." She swallowed trying to concentrate as he ran his thumb across her nipple. Even though the fabric of her breast band he could feel it respond to his touch.  
“You threw the match," he said tweaking the sensitive nub. She bit her lip suppressing the moan that was making its way up her throat.  
“But --"  
“Do you think I would let you off? Even hero’s need to face the consequences of their actions." He sucked lightly on her ear lobe and she shivered.  
"Yes S..Ser." He tugged lightly on her hair pulling her head back to expose her throat.  
"You will address me with my proper title."  
"Y..yes C..Commander," she managed to squeeze out. His body thrummed with desire. He could see the naked want in her eyes, so intense in made his knees week. He bought a hand down hard on her backside, she gasped at the contact pushing herself against him. She made a pleasured sound in the back of her throat that could have almost been a purr. He wanted to strip her naked right there and make her scream over and over again until the whole keep knew she was his, but this playing on this knife edge was far too delicious. He stepped back and she swayed on her feet her breathing unsteady.  
"Do you have any formal dress robes?" She nodded. "Good. Tonight Josephine is hosting a dinner, you will wear your dress robes, with no smalls. I want to know that at any moment I can lift up your skirts and take you." He watched her breath hitch. "And no giving yourself relief with out me. The next time you come today it will be around my cock." He could have sworn she just about came from the mere suggestion, if he didn't leave now he wouldn't be able to. Using every bit of self control he had he turned and walked to the door. "See you at dinner," he said looking over his shoulder at her. The sight of her almost undid him. Her stormy eyes were dark with arousal, a trail of pink bite marks down her throat, her hair tousled. He tightened his grip on the door nob and carefully stepped out. It was time to have a _really_ cold shower and change.

He cast his eyes to the entrance, had he done the right thing? It had just seemed so natural at the time. He wasn't sure what he was more terrified of the idea that she wouldn't go along with him or the tantalising realisation that she actually might. He had always been more of a dominant lover and the events in Ferelden had only served to heighten his need for control, but this,this was different. He adjusted the front of his formal uniform nervously and took a deep breath, turning his attention back to Dorian who was regaling them with a tale from one of their last excursions into the Storm Coast.  
"And of course then we found a dragon."  
"It was magnificent," Bull cut in grinning ear to ear, taking over the story.  
He felt her come in, felt her eyes roam across the small group to settle on him. The her magic caressing his mind like breath across his skin. He felt her hand clasp his, her fingers running lightly across his knuckles. He looked at her out of the corner of his eye and his heart almost stopped. She was breathtakingly beautiful. Her formal robes were made of a luxurious velvet in the rich Warden blue with grey and silver serving as accents. The bodice had a scooping neckline that left her shoulders bare, it clung to her torso like a second skin accentuating her ample bosom, flaring out from her hips falling neatly to the floor. There were no frills or ruffles just clean elegant lines. He put his arm around her pulling her close, running his hand across her hip possessively. His hand paused in its movements as the realisation struck him, she was not wearing smalls, she had obeyed. The wave of desire the crashed through him was so potent he had to bite his lip to stop from groaning out loud. Noticing his stilled hand she smiled up at him, her eyes dark. He tried to bring his attention back to the conversation at hand. He knew Bull and Varric were speaking heatedly but all he could think about was her naked backside, so close at hand. _'Dicipline!'_ He told himself, trying to push the images his mind had conjured aside, willing himself to focus. He was so caught up in the act of trying to focus that he hadn't noticed the Mage recruit who had appeared beside Solona, talking quietly to her. They must have said something important because her face turned serious.  
"If you would excuse me for a moment," she said shooting him an apologetic look. He watched her go and join Senior Enchanter Fiona at a small table to the side of the room.  
"Well aren't you the avidly attentive one," Dorian mused quietly beside him.  
"I... ," Cullen said turning to him. "We have a lot of time to make up..... I seem to remember you and Bull were rather ....intense at first..." An amused look crossed Dorian's face. His eyes twinkled and he waggled his eyebrows at Cullen.  
"A bit if restraint and hands on discipline can go a long way." Cullen clenched his jaw, he fought the visions of bending Solona over his knee and spanking her bare naked backside. The sound of his hand against her skin, the feel of her writhing against his lap, the gasps and delicious purrs she would make. Dorian's chuckle cut through his revelry. "Come Commander let's get a drink." Cullen nodded allowing Dorian to drag him to a corner table far away from the others. "Well it looks like Sera owes me a bottle of Sun Blonde Vint-1."  
"What?" Cullen started as he sat, it was taking him far longer to pull his mind from that place than it reasonably should.  
"She was sure you were the in control but likes a woman on top type. I however thought your tendencies were more..... Dominant."  
"I..." He sighed. "I never... It is...She..." He groaned in frustration, "It has never been like this before... It is so...."  
"Intense?" Dorian suggested, Cullen nodded. "My dear Commander, if I remember correctly you have had feelings for this woman for most of your life. Can you claim that of any of the other people you have been involved with?"  
"Involved is a rather strong term."  
"My point exactly. I am sure whatever is between you two has a lot of baggage, nothing that intense comes cheap."  
Cullen snorted. "Understatement of the year."  
"What ever it is." Dorian waved his hand dismissively. "For the first time in your life you have the freedom to explore what you want. That has not really been strong theme in your life." Cullen looked down at the glass Dorian had placed in front of him.  
"I swore myself to a life of service and sacrifice, what I want is--"  
"No." Dorian cut of simply. "I refuse to let you go on a self sacrifice bent when the Maker literally sits the one person you desire above all others in your lap." Cullen allowed him self a glance at Solona. She was talking quietly to the Grand Enchanter, but he could see the tension in her. Her eyes darted to his and she gave him a small smile, he couldn't help but smile back, a warmth spreading through him that had absolutely nothing to do with wine. Dorian chuckled again. "But seriously did you have to set your sights on one of the most powerful people in Ferelden?"  
Cullen smiled at him, "She wasn't when I first met her."  
"Oooh!" Dorian grinned at him leaning back in his chair. "Do tell." And he did, for the first time since leaving Fereldan he talked about the positive memories he had of the tower, of Solona and their bumbling early romance. He paused when he reached the last time he had seen her and the events leading up to it, swirling the dregs of his wine uncomfortably. He hadn't told Dorian what had happened in the tower only Solona and those who were in the tower knew. "And that," Dorian said with ease. "Would be the baggage." Cullen nodded uncomfortably. "I am assuming she knows what it is." Cullen filled his glass and nodded again. Remembering with horrific clarity the vitriol he had directed at her. Had it not been been for what happened in Kirkwall, how Meredith had used his anger he was not sure he could have let that pain go. For the first time in his life he could see that maybe their had been a greater purpose to his trials.  
"Thank you." He said looking up at Dorian.  
Dorian smiled, "You're welcome."  
"What are you two grinning at?" Varric asked sidling up to them.  
"I was just asking the Commander if he and his lovely lady would like to join us for Wicked grace some time."  
Varric chuckled, "Way ahead of you there, Sparkler. Her ladyship said tonight she was... otherwise occupied, but maybe tomorrow."  
Cullen sighed caught between excitement and exasperation, "it looks like I you have finally manage to get me to a game."  
"You could always try an convince her otherwise. I am sure she can be persuaded given the right ...... motivation." Dorian grinned. Cullen rolled his eyes and Varric snorted. The ring of the dinner bell removed the need for any further response. "Saved by the bell Commander."  
"Lucky for you."

He shifted in his seat he felt flushed and there was a pressure building in the back of his mind. He silently cursed himself as he ate his meal, pushing too hard always made his withdrawal worse. The episodes of pain, hyper vivid memories and paranoia had been getting better. He gritted his teeth in frustration, every time he seemed to be making progress, all it took was one over long day and he was back at square one. He looked over at Solona. She smiled at him and he felt the smouldering heat between them. Every time he looked at her it seemed to grow more insistent. By the time they had finished and the last round of wine was being poured he felt as though he was about to combust. Desire clawed at him, tearing him apart from the inside. It was as if every movement, every look she gave him was designed to drive him mad. The slide of her lips on her desert spoon, the way her tongue curled as it caught the last drop of wine from her goblet, the way her the neckline of her dress gaped exposing the tops of her breasts as she reached for the bottle to refill it. His body burned, fire ants crawling under his skin. The feeling of uncontrolled desire bringing flashes of memory so vivid that he had to grip the arms of his chair to stop flinching. Something was wrong, he could feel it his bones as another wave took him. Even during the worst of the withdrawals the desire, this burning unquenchable need, was never this bad. Then with a horrified realisation he remembered when he had felt like this before. _'Maker no! Not again!'_ the thought crossed his mind just as his eyes picked out the distant sound of clashing weapons and running feet.  
“INQUISITOR!” came the yell from the entrance way, they were all out of their seats in a heartbeat. He reached the footsteps of the keep just at the same time as the Inquisitor. The eery green glow of an opened rift illuminated the courtyard. He could see what looked like a small force of wardens with and demons at the heart of the melee, with more demons pouring through the rift.  
“TO ARMS!” he yelled racing down the stairs two at a time. With horror he saw one of the warden mages slice the throat of an Inquisition soldier, but instead of falling the blood swirled around the mage.  
“BLOOD MAGIC!” he heard Solona yell, “ EVERY ONE STAY BACK!” She moved forward with the inquisitor, a purloined sword in one hand the other pulsing with familiar magic. He raced forward grabbing a sword and shield from a fallen recruit, he would not let he fight alone. It was then he felt the claws grip his mind, he stopped mid stride, as if he had hit a wall. Then he was flung back his body hitting the keep wall hard, he looked up dazed and saw a vision form his nightmares.  
“Where are you going my dear?” The desire demon purred. “We have so much to catch up on.” He could see the chaos of battle around him, but he it was muted somehow distant. He saw Solona run to him as if in slow motion, he watched as the demon turned her tail wrapping him in a tight grip. He struggled but he could not free himself. He saw Solona _‘Why isn’t she casting?’_ he thought as she rushed closer.  
"She doesn’t want to hit you," the demon's voice echoed in his mind. He watched as Solona swung her blade, saw the demon dodge, pulling him into her. He grunted at the impact and the demon moved again grabbing Solona hard around the throat. He watched the demon lower it’s mouth to hers in a kiss. _’NO MAKER PLEASE!’_ The world began to darken and then he was falling.


	3. Retempt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Desire demon tempts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smutt much smutt :)

The report blurred in front of his eyes, another Mage turning to blood magic trying to escape yet another lynch mob. Even with the joint Templar and guard patrols that he and Aveline had organised these episodes of violence continued unabated. He slammed his fist on the desk in frustration no matter what he did nothing was changing. Hawke and most of Kirkwalls nobility had evacuated the city leaving a gaping power vacuum that he had no interest in filling and the constant threat of an exalted march was only making matters worse. He looked out of the viscount's office window, after the bloodshed at the gallows no one wanted to face going back there, but they would have to soon. They could only bunk on the Keep's floor for so long. He sighed they were also going to be running low on lyrium soon while Meredith had had built up a quite sizeable stockpile he wasn't sure when or even if the chantry would resume shipments. He had been rationing out the supply, but after so long even the most unaware of the Knights were beginning to mutter. A ruckus at his office door had him jumping out of his chair and moving to the door, his hand going automatically to his sword hilt.  
"Let me go you tin can wearing oafs! I am a Grey Warden!" He heard the sound of a gauntleted hand hitting flesh just before the door slammed open. A group of no less than five Templars store in carrying the bound figure of a woman.  
"Knight Commander," one of the masked faces saluted. "We found this Mage in the lowtown market. She is not one of ours, probably one of the apostate troublemakers."  
"And as I told your incompetent void take--" her eyes shot to him and she stopped. He felt the world shift under his feet. "Ser Cullen?" She said so softly it barely registered. He stared dumbfounded. She was dirty, wearing commoner's garb, her face marred by a split lip her hair long and loose, but he would know her anywhere. His heart beat faster, Solona Amell, the Hero of Ferelden.  
"Leave us!" He said ordered his voice sounding much harsher than he had intended.  
"But Knight Comm--"  
"I said go! Or Maker help me I will make you!" The commotion that followed would have been almost humorous had he been able to shift his gaze from the woman kneeling on his office floor. Finally the door clicked shut and they were alone. He sank into one of the benches that ringed the office, fisting his hands in his hair. She shifted on her knees over to him, grimacing at the awkwardness of the motion.  
"Sol what in the Makers name are you doing here?"  
"I.... Warden business," she said. "If you wouldn't mind." She sifted trying to indicate her hands bound behind her. Cullen looked up at her, his hand coming up to stroke her cheek.  
"There has been.... I wanted to.... If...." He trailed off words lost to shock and awe.  
"Cullen," she breathed. At the sound of his name something inside of him snapped. Surging forward his lips met hers with a desperate hunger. She tilted unable to keep her balance, strong arms clenched about her pulling her against him. The desire exploded within him incinerating all sense and reason. She was within him and all around him. Her mana dancing on his lyrium laces senses, the taste of her earthy and unique mingled with the metallic taste of blood. He pulled back his breathing hash, she made a soft sound of protest. "Maker's Breath! I should stop but---"  
"By the void Ser Cullen Rutherford, if you stop I will electrocute you right here in your over polished armour!" He chuckled heat curling in his belly. With a tug pulled her up to straddle his lap, reaching around to loosen her bindings. She shifted her hands out of his reach colouring slightly. "I ahhhh..... umm like it." He groaned deep in his throat as desire hotter and more intense than he had ever known unfurled within him. Desires that he had kept locked away in the deepest darkest corner of his mind began to spread their wings.  
"Sol," he breathed. His hand drifting up her body to her throat, tentatively almost reverently the grasped it in his hand pulling her lips to his. She sighed sagging into his grip her eyes fogging with desire. "Maker help me," he muttered before claiming her lips in a searing kiss. He needed more, so much more. He growled pulling back tugging off his gauntlets. In a swift motion he drew her shirt over her head leaving it to hang off her bound hands. He paused as his hands drifted over her naked skin criss crossed with scars much like his own. She was so heart wrenchingly beautiful, each scar a testament to her strength and courage. He kissed his way along each scar memorising them and thanking the Maker that she had survived each one. When he reached her shoulder he loosed her breast band letting it fall to the floor. Reverently he cupped their soft weight in his hands brushing the nipples with his thumbs. She shuddered pressing herself into him rocking against his crotch. He gave her a hard slap across the backside and stilled shuddering with the effort. “Good girl,” he whispered into her ear. In one smooth motion she stood her up pushing her skirt down the swell of her hips. She hadn’t been wearing smalls, the thought struck him, something familiar on the edge of his memory. But then she was gloriously naked in front of him, what did it matter. “Stay perfectly still,” he whispered in her ear and stepped back, relieving himself of his armour. When he was completely naked he sat back on the bench. “You can turn around.” Hungry eyes raked over him as she took in the sight.  
“Please Knight Commander,” she pleaded moistening her lips. He had never really liked the title but to hear it fall from her while she was bound and naked, it heightened his already aching arousal.  
“Kneel Mage,” he ordered, the words coming unbidden. She acquiesced quickly kneeling between his legs. Tilting her head she took his phallus into her mouth, he groaned Maker the feeling of her hot wet mouth around him was beyond amazing. She sucked him deep, he through his head back trying to muster enough will to continue with the game. He wound his hand in her hair then pulled her off him. “Did I tell you to do that?” She shook her head feigning contrition, though the way she licked her lips showed she was anything but. “No what?"  
“No Ser.”  
“Better, well it looks like I will need to give you a lesson in obedience.” He pulled her up and bent her over his lap. He stroked her back side with his hand teasing her crease with the tips of his fingers, he gently partnered her lower lips tracing the folds with a finger. She was holding her breath in anticipation, he grinned moving his hand away. She made a sound of protest and she brought his hand down with a solid thwack! across her backside. She gasped,then wriggled in his lap straining towards his hand again. He let another blow fall, “Did I tell you to move!” She stilled. “You will count the blows,” And after each one you will thank me. Do you understand Mage?"  
“Yes Ser.” Thwack! “One. Thank you Ser.” Thwack! “Two. Thank you Ser.” Blow after blow until her backside was a delicious shade of red. He smiled stroking the heated flesh.  
“You did well.” He ran his finders arose her swollen lips and she gasped, trying hard no to rock into the touch. He chuckled and he carefully doped a finger in between her folds . “Obedience deserves a reward.” He circled her clit with his finger. “What do you want?” She shuddered.  
“I want you to fuck me.”  
He pulled her up moving them to the desk, with no ceremony he pushed her down so her chest was resting on the desk. “Is this what you want?” he said brushing her cunt with his cock.  
“Yes,” she breathed.  
“Yes what?"  
“Yes Se—“ He sheathed him self in one smooth motion. She cried out, “Cullen! Maker yes!” He groaned the world behind his eyelids erupting in stars. Again and again he thrust, it was coming on too fast, if he didn’t slow down he would come far to soon. He thrust into her again and stilled, she shuddered pushing back against him pulling him as far as he would go. He rocked slowly deep inside her stroking her back. He spied the small bottle of oil on his desk. _Where did that come from?_ but the confusion was quickly smothered by desire. He uncorked the bottle and drizzled some of it over her puckered rear hole. She shuddered stilling as he gently massaged the tight ring. When he slid a well oiled finger inside she cried out her whole body convulsing with the intensity of the orgasam. He growled almost spilling his seed then and there but he now knew where he wanted to spill it. He continued to rock gently slowly massaging her puckered opening until he could slide three fingers in and she was panting and pleading again. This time he pulled back, slathering himself generously in oil he eased int her rear opening. His legs started shaking at the intensity of it. She moaned pushing back harder against him till he was sheathed to the hilt. He turned them leaning back against the desk while pulling her up against him, with one hand he encircled her throat and the other he began to stroke her clit. He moved slowly drawing out the moment that they would both snap. He could feel her tightening around him, clenching and releasing as he stroked her. Pleasure sang through him, with each thrust he felt the spiralling pleasure tightening threatening to explode. He bit her shoulder trying the muffle the groan that was building. She moaned clenching him even tighter. Stars began to burst behind his eyes he could not hold out much longer,  
"Cullen!" She gasped. "I need to touch you... Please!"  
"Maker Yes!" He groaned into her shoulder. She pulled her hands out from behind her back the ties falling to the floor. He chucked as he shifted their position, pushing her back against the desk, her legs lifted till they rubbed against his chest. "Well, aren't you cheeky," he groaned as he thrust into her again. She moaned running her hands along as much of his skin as she could reach.  
"It takes a bit more than that to bind me." He bent forward shifting her legs apart so he could kiss her. The change in angle seemed to only increase the intensity he could feel her body vibrating with tension, clenching around him his own wave about to crest. "Cullen!" She cried out her body spasming around him. His own wave crested engulfing him in a searing cascade of pleasure. Both of them twitched and shuddered as the last of the waves of pleasure subsided. He withdrew pulling her into his arms. He felt the ache in his bones, the desire to never let go. He felt the keening ache like a madness, a fever. He was done with all of it, the mages and the chantry could sort themselves out for all he cared. He was done!  
"Sol let's get out of here, go somewhere else, somewhere far away. Where there are no wardens, no mages and Templars, no more obligations to people intent on destroying themselves.” She squeezed him tightly, she was still a long time before she looked up at him, her gaze shiny, bright tear tracks stealing her face. “I love you, so much and you will never know.” She cupped his face and kissed him, a gentle salty kiss that tasted of longing and farewell.  
Panic gripped him. "Love what is it?" She turned away from him looking around the room.  
“Demon you have had your fun. It is over!" He frowned casting his mind back, he couldn't remember how he got here. He strained but fog clouded his thoughts just as it had once before.  
"Maker no!" He said, stepping back. "Not again." A slow clap echoed through the room as their surroundings dissolved. Their clothes reappearing disheveled but whole. The desire demon sauntered through the shifting mists towards them clapping slowly.  
"My... My .... Such desire you two have. You I have met before.” She smiled at Cullen, then turned back to Solona. “But you…. You are new, brimming with burning desires."  
“Cullen?” Solona looked at him in disbelief ignoring the demon, he hadn’t dissolved into the scene. He could see her mind working overtime, trying to separate the hallucination from reality.  
"Why of course,” the desire demon purred. “Why waste effort of creating the illusion of what you desire when it is all right here." It licked it's lips. "Such a delectable mix too, full of longing, love, sexual desire and a good smattering of depravity"  
Solona gazed at the demon her eyes hardening. “Release us."  
“You could have everything you have ever wanted.” The demon waved its arm the scene dissolved into a small sea side cottage. A younger version of himself stood in the doorway, a three year old girl in his arms an older boy running about in front of him, waving a toy sword and laughing. He smiled at the scene, the boy had Solona’s dark hair and stormy eyes, but had his nose and mouth. The girl was all Solona except for the hair, she had his unruly honey coloured locks . “You can live a full untainted life.” The demon turned to him. “And you with her.” Suddenly he was holding the girl, his daughter, in his arms. The smell of her the weight of her, she was so real and when she looked up at him with wide hazel eyes a perfect mix of his golden brown and Sol's grey green he felt his heart ache. He carefully put the child down turning to Solona. She looked visibly shaken. He met her gaze with his own, the pain in her eyes was palpable. He gave her a small smile and she swallowed gritting her teeth.  
“Release us now.” The desire demon sighed.  
“Fine Have it your way.” With a wave of her hand she attacked.  
He awoke with a start, he felt like all kinds of death, Solona stirred beside him. He could still hear the sounds of battle from the courtyard. Standing slowly he put his hand down to her.  
“Cullen I—"  
“We can talk about it later,” he said pulling her up. He gave her a quick kiss. “We have a battle to fight.”


	4. Reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry For the delay in updating, RL hit me for six recently. Her is a short but smutty one Def NSFW
> 
> NOTE: Includes choking

It had been five days since he had seen her. He had not seen her that first day, he had been swamped  trying to keep up with the repairs, updating the rosters and dealing with the injured and the dead. A note was delivered to him early the day after the battle.

> _“Cullen,_  
>    
>  _Sorry for leaving without seeing you. I know we need to talk but I need time to think and you have a lot on your plate, I hope you understand. I fear when it gets down to it, underneath all the trappings, parts of me are still the passionate and overly sensitive apprentice you knew so many years ago. I am joining one of the elven patrols, I will be back in a few days and we can talk then._  
>    
>  _Yours always,_  
>    
>  _Sol"_

He had traced the neatly curving letters with the tips of his fingers till the lines had begun to smudge. He rubbed his temples and looked down at the report his head pounding. Sleep had never come easy to him but it had been worse these last few days, there had been so much to do and then there were the dreams. For the first time since Klinloch-hold he did not dream about demons and that difference was what had made them harder to ignore. They came in two forms the first was Solona her body writing beneath him as he sank into her depths, his hand about her throat as she clenched around him. The moans, binding ropes, the smack of his hand against her flesh, her scent and whispered confessions. Those dreams left his body thrumming with a frustrated desire so pervasive that no matter how many times he took himself to hand he still ached with it. The others were in their own way worse. Her belly swelling with their child. The curly blonde hair of his daughter nestled at her breast as he rubbed her feet. She would smile down at him her eyes full of love. He would awake from that one with his heart aching unbearably at the simple happiness. The report blurred as his thoughts drifted.

 _The first enchanter stormed into his office slamming the door, her stormy eyes flaring in anger. He looked up from his reports a bemused smile on his face._  
_“Well for the first time ever I managed to get the Libertarians and the Loyalists to agree on something!” She sank down into the chair opposite him._  
_“The meeting of the Fraternities went well I take it?” She rolled his eyes at him._  
_“I put up the proposition to petition the chantry for the development of templar supported community service. Now the Loyalists are up in arms about how I am going against the will of Andraste and the Libertarians are crying fowl about being some kind of chantry boot licker…. No I am sorry the phrase they used was 'submissive Chantry sycophant’.” Cullen coughed slightly trying, hiding his amusement behind his hand. She shot him a defiant look, the spark that always danced between them flared. He saw her pulse speed up and she swallowed, he knew he shouldn’t they swore that the last time had to be the last time. The air thickened as they looked at each other, he smirked at her his lip curling just so. “I am sure you meeting with the Grad Cleric went just as well?” she said trying desperately hard to mask her awareness of him._  
_“Better actually,” he said. “She was rather—" a rap at the door interrupted him. “Come in,” he said brusquely. He watched Solona’s mask slide in place her passionate vibrancy hidden behind a stiff and stony demeanour. The young knight, marched in purposefully his helm almost hiding fearful look he shot the first enchanter. Coming to a stop beside Cullen's desk he saluted._  
_“Knight-Commander” “Ser Rylen,” he nodded._  
_“Report.” The Knight shot a furtive look towards the first enchanter again then nodded._  
_“I doubt the proposal will get the support the first enchanter desires.” Cullen watched Solona’s jaw tighten her lips taking on the pouted almost sullen look she used to wear as an apprentice. A wicked idea struck him. “Neither the Libertairans, Isolationists, Loyalists or Lucrosians seem willing to truly consider the matter.” Subtly, as to not raise the recruit’s notice he pulled on the Fist Enchanters Mana. He saw the moment she noticed, a crack appeared in her facade. Her eyes darkened, her pulse once again quickening. It slid into him caressing his mind, stroking his senses in a way that was wholly indescribable but so incredibly erotic._  
_“The first enchanter was just filling me in on that part,” he said his voice flat. “Anything else?"_  
_“I—“ Rylan shot another look towards the first enchanter._  
_“Spit it out recruit!” he said impatiently, he could have sworn the boy actually jumped slightly._  
_"I am concerned about the conversations I over heard between some of the Libertarians, they tried to act as though they were off to have a inconsequential meeting but they are far too furtive. I made sure that the patrols in those areas knew to keep a closer eye on them but I am still concerned their behaviour is….  unusual” Cullen nodded, still drawing slowly on Solona’s mana. He turned to look at her his own mask firmly in place. Anyone else looking at her would only see the cool veneer but he could see the microscopic cracks. Pupils dilated just more than they should be, the way she shifted in her chair and the unconscious motion of her fingertips as she tried to distance herself from her building desire.”_  
_First enchanter?” he asked cooly._  
_“I will look into it. No need to trouble yourself Knight-Commander, I am sure they are just letting off steam."_  
_“This is the third time these sorts of concerns have been brought to my attention in the last month,” he said icily. “If you are unwilling to act—"_  
_“You’ll what?” she spat her eyes flashing. “Maybe if your recruits didn’t cry maleficar every time they see a particularly dark shadow you wouldn’t get so many reports.” He stood, looming over his desk at her._  
_“If you do not take action I will be obliged to act as the order dictates.” She shot up her gaze level with his._  
_“As the order dictates?” she snorted derisively. “You mean those lyrium addled super—“ He turned to the Rylan._  
_“You are dismissed knight.”_  
_“Ser if you need me to—"_  
_“I said Dismissed!” They glared at each other across the table as Rylan made his hasty retreat. “And close the door, the first enchanter and I need to have a little chat."_  
_“Ser!” Rylan said and the door banged closed._  
_“Again?!” an exasperated voice came from the other side of the door._  
_“This one is going to be a doozy."_  
_“We will know if he turns on the silence rune."_  
_“How does this place even function with those two at each others throats all the time?"_  
_“They are like an old married couple. When they can eventually manage to agree, they do actually work well together.” Cullen's lip quirked, Solona raised her eye brow mouthing the words 'old married couple'._  
_“You were saying First enchanter?” he hissed pulling out the rune from his desk draw and placing it on the top of the table._  
_“I was saying Knight-Commander that when your witless recruits actually --” he waved his hand across the rune activating it. “had anything substantial I will take action, but until then you can take their--” He stalked around to her._  
_“I can take their what?” he said pulling firmly on her mana, his senses soared and she stumbled, he caught her against him._  
_“Cullen,” she whispered. “we said….” he paused, suddenly awkward, hands clasped about her waist lips a hairs breadth from hers._  
_“Sol if your don’t want—“ he started, she silenced him with a kiss. Her hands sliding into his hair to pull him more firmly against her. Their tongues danced and a groan bubbled up from his chest. It had always been like this, his body hummed where she touched him. Mana sliding against his lyrium sensitised nerves, he needed her. He had long abandoned wearing his gauntlets when he was in his office, treasuring the furtive moments where he could hold her hand or stroke her hair. He slid his hands down her body tugging up her robes. His hands rasped against her skin rough sword calloused hands sliding against the delicate soft skin of her thighs and backside. He grasped her arse roughly pulling her hard against him, he mentally cursed the armour between them but enjoyed the slight hiss that escaped her lips as sensitive flesh rasped against cold steel. He lifted her sliding her back to sit in the edge of his desk her legs opening to him. He wanted to do so much but there was no time, there was never any time. Questing fingers found her smalls, sliding lightly against their scorching dampness. Slowly he traced a finger around her sensitive nub, stroking it lightly just enough to tease. She moaned, her hands sliding down his iron clad chest. Deft hands released the lower half oh his armour pushing aside his skirts and tugging at his britches. He stroked an teased her till she was whimpering with need. They had to be quick, but he needed her, needed her to be his for just for little while. Cool hands stroked him and he groaned. With a sharp jerk he tore of her smalls throwing them to the side. She smiled._  
_“I think it is time I gave up on wearing any smalls. You seem so intent on destroying them every time you encounter them the requests for new ones are getting me 'looks'.” He chuckled and shifted forward, stroking himself against her._  
_“I wouldn’t be adverse to the proposition, though—" he groaned and he slid inside her, his body shuddering as he tried to keep pace slow. “As your Knight —urg — Commander… I would … be …. obliged to warn you…” She pulled his face to hers as he thrust into her, her breathing already ragged._  
_“Warn me?” she shuddered sliding her hand between them._  
_“That you… risk … getting … ravaged at… every… Maker!” His pace increased as she found that delicious bundle of nerves. “…possible … opportunity.” He thrust hard into her over and over again. Maker! The feel of her rippling and tightening as they drove each other higher and higher. He brushed her hand out of the way lowing his own skillful fingers to her clit. She lent back across his desk her eyes dark the small moans and gasps she made music to his ears. She was close he could feel it, he played her clit like a master brining her to the brink over and over again until she was trembling and cursing in frustration. "Come for me love,” he said uncharacteristically softly, pushing the mana he had gathered back into her. Her eyes rolled back in her head and she bit down on her own hand as she clenched and pulsed around him. He felt himself fall over the edge pleasure exploding through him, as he spent himself inside her. He fell forward bracing himself on the desktop. Her lips found his, her arms curling about him. For one brief moment he could pretend, pretend that they could stay like this, pretend that they weren’t taking an incredible risk, pretend that they could have a life together._

He started awake as a hand brushed his forehead.  
“Solona?” he croaked blinking at the figure standing beside him.  
“I’m sorry—“ before he knew what he was doing he was standing his lips pressed to hers. She gasped in surprise but her mouth opened to him her tongue darting out to stroke his own. She was here and she was real. She pulled back, slightly dazed. "Well hello to you too," her voice light and teasing, then she frowned. "Cullen you look terrible.” She brushed a lock of his hair form his forehead, her fingers hesitating against his skin. “Have you been sleeping at all?" He looked away about to reassure her that he was fine.   
“I ahh…” Her hand slid down to his jaw cradling his face and turning it back to hers. Those beautiful eyes looked at him with such aching tenderness, he couldn't lie any more. “…. Not really."  
"Eating?" He thought for a moment, he knew their had been food at some point. "I think so," he said hesitantly. She rolled her eyes at him.  
"You up to bed!" She ordered poking a finger at his breastplate.  
"I have--"  
"No excuses. Up!" He chuckled at the serious look on her face. He lent closer his lips ghosting across her ear, she shivered goose flesh rising up along the exposed flesh of her neck.  
"I thought I was the one supposed to be giving orders." She let out a hiss of breath and he pulled back slightly. Flushed cheeks and moistened lips indicated the effect his words had had on her. He almost growled in satisfaction.  
"Let's call this service then," she smiled teasingly through her lashes. "Someone has to take care of your …. needs Commander." He could feel the familiar aching desire building. "Now shoo, up the ladder.” He grasped her hand as she turned.  
"Stay," he said simply. She looked at him, her smile soft.  
"I'll be up in a minute.” She reassured and he let her go. Making his way up the ladder as he heard her open the door and talk to the guard posted on the battlements. "Soldier!"  
"Yes Warden Commander."  
"The Commander is not to be disturbed for the rest of the day."  
"Err...."  
"Any requests can be forwarded to Rylen anything above his pay grade can be handled by Seeker Pentaghast."  
"Yes Ser." The soldier said Cullen could hear the hesitance in the soldiers voice. He made it to his room and began divesting himself of his armour.  
"Is there a problem, Warden Commander?" A third voice, Rylen.  
"Ahhh Rylen excellent. I was just letting this soldier know that the Commander is not to be disturbed for the rest of the day. In fact if there is a knock on his door before tomorrow morning I will personally feed the offending individual to the darkspawn." He could almost hear Rylen and Sol exchanging measured looks.  
"Of course Ser. Will there be anything else?"  
"Actually..." He couldn't hear the rest of the request he sighed pulling of his shirt a slightly foolish grin on his face. She was here and with him. He heard one of his tower doors open and close. The sound of shifting, the chink of mail being removed and placed on his spare armour stand. He made a mental note to get a second one for his room. There was a quiet knock and a door opening. "Thank you!" She said and there was a murmured reply he couldn't make out he slid his britches off but paused at his smalls. He usually slept naked but he felt suddenly shy. He rummaged through a chest and pulled out a pair of soft loose britches that he used when sleeping in the barracks. Sliding them on he crawled into bed sliding up so his back rested on the headboard, just as he heard Solona making her slow way up the ladder. With a huff she slid a basket onto the floor through the opening, it was full of food stuffs. He could see bread, wine, cheese, meats fruit... A veritable feast. He chuckled.  
"Are you going to feed me too?" She looked at him as she put the basket on the bed.  
"Don't tempt me Mr!" She shifted pulling off her leather britches leaving her only in a long cream shirt, his shirt.  
“I wondered where that went..." She coloured slightly and he felt his heart swell. "I like it." She smiled and he was acutely aware of the aching vulnerability in her eyes. "Come here." He patted the bed beside him. Sliding in to sit next to him she, looked into the basket.  
"The cook seemed to think that you hadn't eaten in at least a day. She was pretty insistent that I make you eat something… well a lot of somethings." She smiled at him handing him a slice of bread with some unidentified meat on it.  
  
They laughed and ate picking at the food in the basket, she even poured wine into a couple of tumblers and they sipped while they ate. After they had demolished their meal they say back sipping the last of the wine. She smiled at him, then looked away her eyes suddenly sad.  
"I wanted to apologise."  
"Hmmm?" He said he was full and contented. It was a strange feeling, though not unpleasant.  
"I left."  
"You came back."  
"I ..... " She toyed with the dregs in her cup. "I never wanted to leave the tower you know, not for good. I always thought that even though we could never..." She waved her hand at the current setting. "We would have been together, you as Greagoir's protege, I as Irvings.” She smiled to herself. "I had this fantasy that even though we couldn't be together, we could at least spend our lives working together. I thought that would be enough, just to spend my life with you even if it was not exactly as I wanted. Then....." His heart ached at the sweetness of the dream, his hand brushing her cheek. She smiled sadly at him. "Then I left to become a warden. I think part of me still hoped that one day we could be with each other again... But after what happened in the circle….After what... I knew it was not to be that life was gone.... I focused on giving my life to the wardens. If it was what the Maker required of me I was going to do be the best Warden I could. Alistair and I we were going to rebuild the Wardens, even after he…. well became King we planned to work together to keep Ferelden and Thedas safe." Her face fell. “But now the wardens….” She looked out the hole in his wall that served as a window. "Being a warden is a death sentence, they took my life, my dreams and my future… I believed in the sacrifice. I still believe in the purpose. But what they have done…. they have gone too far. I cannot… I can no longer serve an order that would deal in demons and blood magic." He stroked her hair thoughtfully. He knew what she was feeling, the sense of gut wrenching betrayal, the bone deep knowledge that no matter what you did you could not fix what was broken.  
"When I saw what Meredith had become… Saw her destroying rather than protecting the people of Kirkwall. I knew I could not support her any longer. I stayed in Kirkwall for a time after, trying to maintain stability in a city falling apart at the seams.” He rand a hand through his hair dislodging the carefully kemp curls. “I think seeing Meredith turn and then having to deal with the fall out ….. It made me realise how far the order had fallen. When Cassandra asked me to join the inquisition I saw my chance.... I am not a Templar any longer, but I believe that the inquisition allows me to for fill the oath I made to the Maker far better than the Order could."  She gave him a canny, amused,  look.  
"Are you suggesting I join the inquisition, Commander?"  
"Would it be so bad?" She grinned her smile teasing again.  
"I think I would quite enjoy being ordered around by you every day." Carefully putting aside their cups and the basket he prowled up her body a wicked smile on his lips.  
"You would need to learn obedience and restraint," he purred his teeth grazing her neck. She shivered her hands coming up to touch his naked torso. The touch set fire racing through him, leaving blazing trails across his skin. He made a tutting noise pushing her hands back down to the bed. His gaze met hers and he saw the desire there and something deeper a languid pliability as she surrendered to him. The fire inside him unfurled turning his blood to molten desire, every nerve straining towards her. "Sol we didn't talk about the other..." He paused releasing her wrists his forehead falling to hers, he had to say it, had to raise it before they fell too far. "The things I want to to to you..... with you are.... Not exactly always gentle or sweet.... I am not the stammering shy recruit I used to be.”   
“Life has not allowed either of us the luxury of gentleness. You are not the same recruit nor I the same apprentice." She lent forward her teeth grazing his shoulder. "I am not sure gentleness is what either of us craves any more." She traced the scar on his lip with her finger tip. "I have spent my life in command. Well before I was ready I was leading the warden's in the fight against the blight. I don't regret any if it .... " she looked away her cheeks colouring. "But sometimes, like now, I need to let another take the reigns, to be under their control…” She took a breath her eyes darting away. "Cullen I want you to spank me, choke me, bind me, take me to the edge and fuck me.” She looked back at him her cheeks an endearing shade of pink. "I want to give you all that I am for as long as you will have it." He felt his heart swell so much he couldn't speak, just gaze upon her in awe.   
"I do not know what I have done to deserve you," he whispered kissing her reverently on the lips. She smiled up at him.  
"Nor I you." The kisses started tender but soon became heated. Solona pulled back slightly. "Show me what you want." Cullen shuddered, his eyes almost black twitching with barely repressed desire. He shifted forward kneeling across her lap. With a delicate touch he traced a finger down the side of her face to her throat. Carefully he encircled it with one hand squeezing just enough to show that he could squeeze harder. The effect was almost instantaneous. Solona's eyes became dark pools of yielding need. His already ridged penis throbbed, desire lancing through him, hot and sharp. He shifted his grip forcing her head to strain upwards slightly. Her breath hitched and she bit her bottom lip. He released her and she whimpered slightly, it was a sound that made him want more. He shifted off her standing beside the bed. In a quick motion he pulled her shirt up over her head using it to fasten her wrists to the headboard.   
"If I do anything you don't like just say Honnleath." She nodded in understanding.  "When I ask you a question you will respond with, 'Yes Commander' or 'No Commander.' Have I made myself clear?"  
"Yes Commander." It came out more as a sigh but he would take it. He ran his hand lightly down her body, down the cleft between her breasts, across her stomach to brush lightly against her lower curls. She twitched, struggling not to thrust into his fingers. He chuckled, dipping a finger between her folds to stroke lightly on her clit. He almost groaned at her wetness, her own arousal clearly evident. With a smirk he stripped off his loose trousers and knelt between her legs, crawling up her body till his phallus rubbed tantalisingly against her perl. She whimpered slightly, biting her lip. There would be time later for languid love making, for testing their boundaries, but now was not that time. He tilted his head to get breast taking the already erect nipple into his mouth. She moaned her back bowing reflexively he feasted all the while he ground against her clit. "Commander please...." She begged. That plaintive desire filled plea pushed him over the edge. He sat back on his heels pulling her legs up against his chest. Slowly patiently he slid inside her scorching depth. Her velvety heat clamped around him, he groaned days of burning unquenchable desire finally being fulfilled. He thrust over and over, her gasping pleas for more pushing him further. He pounded violently into her, each time she cried out encouragement. He could feel the crest approaching, he slid his hand to her throat and clenched. He felt her tighten around him almost painfully, her body bowing. Quickly he tugged her bonds loose.  
"Touch yourself," he ordered as he thrust. "Come ... for .... me." Her hand snaked down between then and she found the bundle of nerves. He was already so close the dark wave of his orgasim looming above him. She stroked herself and he felt her tighten again so close, her body vibrating with tension. "Come now," He ordered his hand clenching on her throat. She came hard screaming his name, two more thrusts and his orgasm broke with bone shattering intensity. He pulled her hard against him as he filled her with his seed. When the last of her spasms had fled he gently slid out of her collapsing to the bed beside her. Gently he pulled her against him, holding her close as their heart rates and breathing returned to normal. She wriggled in his arms till they were nose to nose. Curling her leg around him she kissed his chin.   
"I think we may have given the recruits an earful," she murmured snuggling into his shoulder. Cullen nuzzled her hair breathing in deeply.   
"Mmmmm," he murmured for the first time in days feeling relaxed and at home. She chuckled, her body languid.  
"Good night my Commander." He pried his eyes open to look sleepily down at her.  
"Solona."  
"Yes."  
"I love you."  
"And I love you. Now sleep." Closing his eyes he smiled, giving her a gentle squeeze. She looked at his relaxed face and felt her heart ache.  

 


	5. Remembrance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We learn about Solona's mission oh and smutt always smutt :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another short one. Struggling a bit with writers block at the moment. I hope the break will help out there and I can spend some time on massaging out the rest of this piece :)
> 
> Note: This work will contain spoilers for Dragon Age: The Calling, Dragon Age Vol. 1: The Silent Grove, Dragon Age Volume 2: Those Who Speak and Dragon Age Volume 3: Until We Sleep

She awoke with a start her heart pounding. Cullen murmured pulling her closer. Closing her eyes she tried to breathe, the false calling clawing at her mind it’s sweet song trickling through her mind. Its dark tendrils blending with the strains of the true calling. Lying in the darkness with the songs gnawing at her mind would only drive her mad, she had to do something to distract herself. Carefully she extracted herself from Cullen's grasp, he made a displeased murmur but slept on. She made her way carefully down the ladder to pick up her pack. The cold stone bit at her feet and she shivered. Picking up her pack she considering staying down stairs to work. She smiled, while sitting naked in Cullen's office chair had its charm, doing it alone in the icy cold reduced the appeal dramatically. She clambered back up the ladder and moved to the small table in the corner of the room. She flicked her fingers and a small mage light hovered in the air. Quietly she pulled out her folio of notes, carefully unfolding map from the centre and stared at it. The lines were the same, the questions were the same. She had to find the architect's lab, something in there would tell her how to fix this. She massaged her temples looking over at Cullen's sleeping form. For the first time since this whole mess started she felt truly scared. What if she couldn't find the cure, what would happen when the day came that she had to leave to fulfill her calling? Would Cullen let her go? Somehow she doubted it and she would have to break his heart. She put down the map and moved back to the bed, he was so beautiful.  She stroked his disheveled curls, he always kept them so orderly, so kempt. She remembered the first time she had seen it in all it's untamed glory.  She had been sent by the first enchanter to find Greagoir, who was supposed to be overseeing a training session. The sounds of excitement from the training yard echoed into the antechamber. The unfamiliar sound of a familiar voice ringing in laughter pulled at her, drawing her towards the adjoining doorway.  The sight that materialised was so foreign it took a moment to register. Cullen rough housing with a few of the other Templars, they were laughing and rolling along the ground. As she watched he managed to gain the upper hand holding the other recruit in a head lock. The sight of him in loose britches and a linen shirt set her heartbeat on a gallop, he was so incredibly heart wrenchingly beautiful. The graceful line of his throat and collar bones emerging from the loose neckline of his shirt, she drank him in revelling in a few moments of unabashed appreciation. That was when he looked up and saw her. His hair was a wild halo of waves, his eyes sparkling with mirth. That moment was burnt into her mind, time seemed to stretch on forever.  Those sparkling golden eyes were stripping her naked, all her hidden feelings exposed. He grinned at her and she tried to smile back but she could feel the flush in her cheeks rising. Her hand itched to run through his hair, how soft would would be? Would his eyes close as she ran her tongue across his sweat dampened skin? She felt the familiar ache in her chest, the ache of what could not be. She moved her fingers and a slight breeze ruffled his hair, cooling his heated skin, it was as close as she could get. The Templar in Cullen's grasp muttered something his eyes shooting daggers at her. Cullen blushed his eyes darting away and he released his captive. 

"A...a...apprentice Ame..mell... You aren't supposed to.. to... Be here," he stuttered.

"S...ser Cullen. I.... first enchanter Irving sent me to find G...Greagoir," she replied softly. Unable to tear her eyes away. She moistened her lips trying to summon a coherent sentence. She saw his eyes heat, staring at her lips as his tongue darted out moistening his own. It was at that moment Greagoir came in. 

"Amell!" She could have sworn she almost fainted, she definitely jumped at the whip crack of his voice. She had stuttered out her message blushing furiously and fled but not without one last glance at Cullen as she left. Letting another cool breeze play across his heated skin. She had cherished that memory for many years, his unfettered laughter and a loose curl falling against his forehead. He looked so much like that boy, older and wiser but he was still there and no matter how much she loved him, she would have to leave him. She felt the pain of that knowledge tear at her. She thought she had loved him in the tower but that charming, kind, intelligent boy didn't hold a candle to the man with whom she now shared her bed. She flicked her wrist extinguishing the light lying down to curl up next to him. His arm came around her again pulling her close. If she had to listen to the false calling all night it would be worth it just to be here with him.

 

He awoke slowly his body deliciously languid, Solona snuggled against him. Her breathing even against his chest. He opened his eyes slowly then shut them with a curse. 

"Makers Balls!" Pain lanced through his brain. He took a deep breath and opened them just a crack, the pain was there but it was manageable. He looked down at the woman in his arms and stilled. Her cheeks were wet, her eyes leaking tears as she slept.  "Love," he whispered touching her cheek. Her eyes shot open meeting his in a half awake confusion. A moment later she was kissing him, kissing his cheeks, mouth, forehead, nose, chin, eye lids, any piece of skin she could reach. She curled her arms around his neck holding him tight. "Sol... Love.... What is wrong?"

"It was just a dream, maker be thanked, it was just a dream," she murmured against his neck. Closing his eyes he pulled her tight against him and stroked her hair whispering sweet nothings until her death grip on him slowly relaxed. 

"Are you going to tell me what it was about?" He said finally tilting her head up to kiss her gently on nose. 

"I..... You had..... I watched you die," she said quietly. 

"I am here very alive, though I am feeling a little like I am dying." He felt her hands on the side of his face. 

"Pull on my mana."

"What?" He cracked an eye open.

"It will help the pain." He breathed, and pulled lightly on her mana. It slid into him caressing the inside of his mind like a balm soothing the pain. It the feel of her mana was exquisite, it hummed in his blood, intimate and sensual. He felt it flow through his body, stroking and arousing. He stopped and lay back his heart beating hard. She smiled at him. "Better."

"You could, say that," he said, his head was spinning his body screaming for more of her. He wanted... Maker he wanted to fuck her.  She moved quickly kneeling across his body. He chuckled and pulled her down for a kiss. She purred into his mouth, her hand tracing across his chest. His phallus already firm, stiffened rubbing against her full backside.  She rubbed herself against him and he slapped her arse cheek playfully.  She gave a pleasured sigh and deepened the kiss. He reached between them lightly tracing her folds. She shivered above him, biting her lip. She was already so wet and hot. He grabbed her hips and shifted her hips lifting her so he was positioned at her opening. With exquisite patience he slowly slid into her. She writhed trying to push harder but he held her tightly. "Tut tut," he said holding her still. She smiled wickedly at him, the feeling of her tightening around him squeezing and pulsing was so unexpected that he groaned loudly snapping his patience. He drove into her, she moaned clamping hard around him. "Minx..." She grinned at him, rocking gently.  He pulled her down kissing her deeply. "Love if you keep doing that I--" She clenched around him and he groaned his pelvis thrusting instinctively. "Maker Sol!" He gasped pulling her hips hard against his driving deeper. She sighed and continued to rock and clench around him, humming in pleasure as she did so. It was torture, blessed torture, he could feel his pleasure mounting climbing slowly, inexorably. He reached in between them and began stroking her clit. She moaned pushing hard against him. _Andraste's flames!_  He was so deep, her walls pulsed and clenched around him. He could feel her walls tightening as he stroked her breathing erratic, her movements speeding up. "Look at me love." Her eyes snapped to his, darkness ringed in a stormy ocean. "Come for me." Her eyes never left his as she careened over the precipice, magic sparking along her skin and along her.... "Solona!" He cried out as he came hard, slamming into her. Her inner walls sparking against him, sending into a white haze of pleasure. She fell against him and he cradled her against him, their bodies still quivering with aftershocks. When he could move again he kissed the top of her head softly.  "What just happened?" She tilted her head to loop up at him, her body going unexpectedly tense. 

"Sometimes when... When a Mage gets....it is .... When ...um.... Things get very intense sometimes... There is a whole lot of technical reasons ... But basically it is a side effect of a particularly intense...ummm orgasm." As he watched he could see the heat rise in her cheeks. She still had his softening cock still inside her and she was embarrassed by her orgasm. He chuckled pulling her tightly against him.

"It was definitely intense." 

"It didn't bother you?" 

"No love, it was quite... Pleasurable. He felt her tension ease, and she kissed his neck lightly. He looked out the window at the sun making its way over the horizon and sighed. "We should probably get up, If we want to get breakfast before the inquisitor's briefing." She groaned and muttered something that sounded a lot like 'void take their briefings,' but slowly shifted off him flopping into her back. With a groan she slid off the bed.

“Fine, fine!” she muttered. He watched her as she made her way to the ladder, glorious golden skin reflecting the morning light. He lay there his body still humming. He closed his eyes giving a brief prayer of thanks before he slowly got out of bed. He moved to his wash basin, his body deliciously languid. It was then he noticed the map lying out on the table. He studied it idly, it looked like a map of the deep roads. He looked closer, some bits were drawn in a clear black ink others had been penciled and re-penciled, finally drawn over in ink with notes in Solona's clear circle schooled hand.  There were also big empty spaces with more penciled in notes, _Darkspawn pit, under ground acid lake, deepstalker nest_. On the outer borders Solona had written names, Duncan _, Fiona._...... Under each were some short notes, but nothing of import.  It was a small note at the bottom right that caught his eye. _Reverse the taint? What was different? Pregnancy? Where is the_ _Baby? Marric_ _’_ _s child? Magic? Grand enchanter? Architect's lab?_  He heard her climb back up the ladder. 

“Are you..." Her voice trailed off. He looked up at her, she had gone very still her eyes fixed on him. 

"So am I to take it that this is secret warden business?" He said waving to the map.

"Yes and no," she said evasively. He felt something cold settle in his stomach. She strode forward folding up the map and tucking it back in a folio. Carefully he grasped her arm, turning her to face him.

"Sol what are you not telling me?" She looked up at him, he was caught by the intensity of the pain and fear in her eyes. 

"Cullen," he voice cracked on his name. She look away blinking rapidly, her eyes trailing down his body. "Makers breath!" She muttered shaking her head. "Can you at least get dressed." She looked up at him her eyes twinkling. "I am not sure if I can manage a serious conversation when you are so delectably naked." He felt the the chill thaw a little and went to pull on some clothes.

 

When he was dressed she had settled herself at the small table. She had pulled out the least overs from the basket the previous evening and was munching quietly away on some bread and cheese. She looked up as he approached settling down across from her. 

"It may not be the freshest, but I thought it was probably better than missing breakfast." He looked over the simple fair and smiled.

“’Tis better than marching fare," he said sitting and grabbing some bread and cheese. She nodded looking back out the hole in his wall.

"Given what is happening with Corypheus I am assuming you know about the calling." He nodded, leaning back to look at her. "About three months before this all started Alistair and I began to..... Notice the early signs of our calling." He stared at her, he felt as though he had been punched in the gut. 

"Sol--" she looked at him the pain in her eyes mirroring his own. He looked away he needed to think. When they had first met Stroud he had done the math out of curiosity and she theoretically still had years left. "But your calling should be years off," he said finally. 

"I know," she said her voice quiet, her eyes drifting towards the window again. "Something about it is odd, but whatever it is may also be the reason that Alistair and I seem to be less effected by the false calling." She shrugged. "Years ago there was a case where a warden's taint was reversed. I had taken leave from the wardens in Ferelden to try and find out if the reversal could be duplicated, when all this occurred." She waved her hand in the air expansively. "I.... Before I ..... Before you... I had come to terms with my calling. I was just a cog in the warden machinery easily replaced, but Alistair ...... He has just had a son, I can't let Duncan grow up without a father. I promised Anora I would find a way to at least slow the progression. It is what lead me here." 

"You love him." It was a statement not a question.

“Yes... but…. politics won out." She looked at Cullen. "After what happened in the tower.... I thought you hated me, that what we had was gone."

He felt his heart ache. "I did, not you... the world. I was not... I am not proud of the man I became after what happened. If ..... I...." He felt the old rage the old pain. "I can't be the same man as I was then." She reached forward and stroked his cheek.

"To tell you the truth I am glad," she smiled. "I love the man you have become." His heart cracked at the love and compassion in her voice. 

 _Maker! What have I done to be deserving of such a gift?_  He took a deep breath, memorising the feel of her hand on his face before speaking again. "But why did you come here? Did you come for Blackwall?" She shook her head.

"I haven’t even seen the man, I think he is avoiding me.” She shook her head. "Anyway no, I came to see Grand Enchanter Fiona." 

"She..." He remembered the notes on the map, _Fiona, Pregnant? Alistair = Baby?_ “Are you saying that the Grand Enchanter was a warden? That's why you were talking with that night."

"Yes, but she only gave me the official version." She sighed, leaning back on her chair.

"On the map you had notes about a pregnancy and Alistair?" She shifted uncomfortably.

"It is merely speculation at this point. I have asked the grand Enchanter to talk privately today. I found some records, mostly hidden away in dusty archives that seem to indicate that the Grand enchanter had had a child. Wardens are...." She swallowed. "Largely infertile.... There are a few cases where children have been conceived but never between two wardens." She looked down at her hands. "The only non-warden on the mission when she conceived was King Marric." 

"But--"

"It is only speculation at this point," she said quickly. "I am hoping that if I confront her with it today, she will be more forthcoming. I also have to talk to Morrigan, she might know why the calling came on sooner than usual."

"What does Morrigan have to do with all of this?"

"I.... It is complicated..... But she is the reason I survived killing the archdemon." He looked at her, the ache in his chest intensifying.

"So how long till you leave?" She looked down at the half eaten bread in her hands. 

"Cullen... If I had--"

"Do you love me?" She nodded. "And I love you." He leaned over the table tilting her face up so he could meet her gaze. "Ten years, Uldred, a blight and a Mage rebellion hasn't changed that." He gave a lopsided smile. "I think we can survive a hunt for your cure. So how long till you leave?"

"I will stay till after the battle at Adamant. No matter the personal stakes here, I have sworn my life to protect the people of Thedas, even if it is from my own." She looked out the window. "In Peace, Vigilance. In War, Victory. In Death, Sacrifice," she said quietly.  He stood and came up behind her and kissed the top of her head. 

"We can do this." He said simply, his hands resting on her shoulders. She looked up at him a tired smile on her face. She had been though so much in her life. He wished he could take this burden if just for a while, kissing her forehead he moved to pack up the remnants of their breakfast. "We should clean this up, the Inquisitor gets it in his head to play practical jokes if we are late"

"Maker preserve us!" She grinned and stood up to help.

 


	6. Reclaim

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The fallout from of the battle of adamant, Cullen extracts a promise from Solona.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Hawke dies in the fade in this version. Sorry!!!
> 
> I have skipped the majority of the battle at Adamant because... mainly because I wanted to get to the smutty bits... what can I say this is my excuse to be self indulgent :)

_~~~ Adamant Fortress Assault ~~~_

Cullen felt the terror gnaw at his insides. It was as if he was back in Ferelden, when the messenger had brought the news of Ostagar. Cullen could see the defeat and loss in the man’s face. Everyone around him was in shock over the King, only Irving had seemed to understand his pain, Solona, Solona was gone. The world seemed to slide away as if he was viewing it from the end of a long tunnel. He had felt that same distance and slowing of time as he saw the archdemon leap and the bridge begin to crumble. He had seen them fall, seen the flash of green against her blue and silver armor, then nothing. Digging through the rubble they found only stone and the unconscious magister. _'Maker help him if they don’t make it back.'_ He flexed his hand around his sword hilt his gloves creaking slightly. He had to keep it together. Looking around at the inquisition forces he sighed, she made it through Ostagar and a blight she would get through this. The rift in the main courtyard was still the most pressing concern, so that was where he went.

He spun his blade flashing. he could smell the icor, a sweet rancid oder, intermingled with the scent of seared flesh and hair. If he kept moving, kept fighting he would not have time to think, to remember. The feel of dark hair running through his hand, the soft sigh as he sheathed himself inside her, hot sweat slicked skin, the tug of his belt around her wrists. He bashed his shield against demon throwing it back, slashing his blade in what he could only call the torso of another. He would not think on the time they had missed. It had been a mad rush preparing for Adamant, they barely had time to fall into bed together exhausted, let alone anything else. Yet it had still been one of the happiest times of his life. He felt his chest constrict, the panic tightening it’s grip around him. 'Maker please bring her back,' he prayed turning to face another charge. At that moment the rift flared, figures emerged, five in total. The last turned raising their hand towards the rift.  
“The Inquisitor!” He heard the yell, but faintly, as if underwater. Green eyes met his and he was moving, blade flashing as it cut through the last of the demons. The pent up panic and frustration of the past few hours coming out in a slash of steel. She knelt where she had landed, as if stunned her face a shifting kaleidoscope of emotions. With a strange pop the rift was gone and he was pulling her up and into his arms, lips pressed to her icor smeared brow. Her arms curled about him, pulling him tighter. The world cheered and triumphed around them, but they said nothing, the knowledge they had come within a hairs breath of loosing each other was still too fresh.  
"Where's Hawke?” At Varric’s question Solona stiffened in his arms.  
"Cullen," she extracted herself from his grip and looked up into his face. "I need to be there for this.” He nodded, feeling a pall suddenly settle over the jubilant atmosphere. She limped to the Inquisitor's side her face grim. He almost swore, she moved clutching at her side. What he originally thought was blood from the battle was instead fresh, slowly leaking through her fingers.  
"Where's Hawke?” Varric’s voice was strained stretched as taught as Bianca’s bow string. The somber expressions on the face of both the Inquisitor and Solona told him every thing he needed to know.  
"Hawke sacrificed her life to save us and strike a decisive blow against Corypheus. She gave her life not because she’d sworn an oath or been marked as special, but because someone had to do it.” Cullen felt the blow of those words, but not nearly as hard as Varric. Hawke had been an unstoppable typhoon of bad humor, ale and violence, the idea that she was dead seemed so incongruous with the vivacious woman he had known. While he was Knight Captain Hawke had been a constant pain in his side, but even through all their heated political disagreements her ineffable charm had still struck him. He watched Varric’s face crumple and he seemed to shrink.  
“Well fuck…."  
“Varric I’m…” Solona started. Varric shook his head turning away from them, Cullen watched him go the grief in his bearing all too familiar. Stroud came forward with a number of other Wardens.  
“Hero you are the highest ranking grey warden left, what are we to do?” Solona moved to answer but the Inquisitor held up his hand staying her response.  
“You leave.” Solona paled beneath the blood and dirt, her eyes darted to Cullen’s before returning to the Inquisitor. “The unfortunate truth is that you are still vulnerable to Corypheus and leaving you unchecked is not a risk I am willing to accept.” The Inquisitor bowed his head, Cullen tensed he knew that look. “By the authority of the Inquisition the Wardens are banished from southern Thedas. Stroud you will oversee their return to the Warden fortress at Weisshaupt.” He turned to Solona. “Solona, Hero of Ferelden, as a reward for your service to the Inquisition I offer you the opportunity to leave the Wardens and join the Inquisition.” Solona looked stunned, her lip began to curl in rage.  
“Inqu—"  
"If you choose not to take up this offer I expect you to leave with the rest of the Wardens, never to set foot in Inquisition territory again.” He looked pointedly over at Cullen, Solona’s gaze followed and she stopped, the rage melting from her face. The Inquisitor had trapped her and she knew it. He had been pressuring her to lend her official support to the Inquisition ever since she had arrived, until now she had tactfully skirted around the issue. Cullen felt his gut twist, he was being used. Her eyes met his and he felt a guiltily happiness bubble through him. She would agree he could see it in her eyes.  
“I have some conditions,” she said turning back to the Inquisitor. He inclined his head, listening. "I need the freedom to complete my original mission. In the meantime I offer a writ of support as the Arlessa of Amaranthine and the Hero of Ferelden. I also need some time. Vigil’s keep and surrounds are largely protected by Wardens, my seneschal will need some time to work out the transition.” The Inquisitor nodded.  
“Agreed. Now please go get that wound seen to before my Commander has a fit.” He nodded to her gloved hand that was now almost scarlet. Cullen twitched trying not to rush forward and carry her to the healing tents. Solona’s gaze met his, she gave him a small reassuring smile and began limping her way back to the main camp, her head held high. “Commander.” The Inqusitor’s voice cut through his concern. He reflexively snapped to attention.  
“Inquisitor."  
“Walk with me.” Cullen shot one last look towards Solona’s back before turning to walk beside the Inquisitor.  
“How many did we lose?"  
“We still don’t have final numbers, the fighting on the wall was costly, but not as bad as it could have been. When we get back to camp I can give you a more complete picture.” The Inquisitor nodded, his face lost in thought. They walked in silence for some time.  
“I’m sorry I had to do that." Cullen made a non-comital grunt. The Inquisitor stopped turning to him. “I am serious. We needed her official support. Without it our allies in Ferelden were unwilling to give any real, practical, aid.” Cullen sighed.  
“You know if you had just asked her outright she would’ve helped."  
“No she wouldn’t… She couldn't. I am not sure you realize how perilous her situation with the Wardens was."  
“She stopped the blight and saved Ferelden, what could they possibly have against that.” The Inquisitor nodded.  
“I think that is the only reason she has been allowed to survive this long. In supporting Alistair’s claim to the Ferelden throne she broke one of the cardinal rules of the Order… and…” The inquisitor paused, Cullen could see he was looking for the best way to broach something.  
“What?"  
“Commander, as far as I understand it…..Though I am no authority… but from what Leliana has told me… she... I mean Solona should have died when she killed the Archdemon….. Her survival cast suspicion over her… there have been rumors of blood magic and--"  
“NEVER!” Cullen hissed, his voice hard. The Inquisitor held up his hand.  
“I understand…. But it was the reason she was not named The Warden Commander and the reason why she stayed as far out of the Warden’s way as possible. She was on very thin ice. As long as she stayed in Ferelden she was protected by her title and Alistair, but if she was to get involved in politics again…. They would exile her and in the Wardens that means a long walk in the deep roads... alone. She would not risk it not with this mission of hers being so critical. I needed to give her a way out.”  
“Force her hand you mean.” The Inquisitor tilted his head, not denying the accusation.  
“I wanted you to know my reasoning. I consider you a friend, I didn’t want this to—“ Cullen rubbed his temples he could feel a headache coming on, the events of the day finally catching up.  
“I understand.” The Inquisitor sighed, looking suddenly very tired.  
“Now go tend to your lady I know you have been itching to go.” Cullen nodded.  
“Ahhh …. Thank you, Maxwell.” The Inquisitor smiled.  
“You welcome, Cullen."

Cullen sat in his tent going over the last of his reports. Solona had visited the healers tent, he had caught up with her briefly there. As soon as she was patched up she had gone off to confer with the Wardens and he had his own troops to sort out. He knew she was still angry with Maxwell, but he also knew that it was probably the best outcome. The report sat before his eyes out of focus his mind wandering. He hadn’t realized how very close he had been to loosing her until he had read Iron Bull’s report on the fade. She had offered to pay the Warden’s debt with her own life. Bull had added his own notes about Hawke being a less valuable asset particularly in relation to raising political support, but Cullen’s eyes had skipped over that. His heart ached with a real physical pain, she was his and he had almost lost her. He toyed with the ring he kept in his pocket. He had been given it when he swore himself to the Templar order. It was a simple silver band, a symbol of his oath to the Maker’s bride. He never wore it, most gave them away to family, but he had kept his. He pulled it out and looked at it. Worn and a little battered, it was a symbol of a promise, a promise that had kept him going through some of his darkest times. Pulling out a length of soft thong he kept for repairing his blade hilt, he carefully tied the ring at the halfway point. He smiled, it would be a symbol of a different promise now and one that he hoped would bring her home to him.

Solona had said farewell to Stroud and the other wardens. They would have to clear out Amaranthine, Alistair would not be happy but luckily the Arlington was in her name so she would maintain custodian ship of it. She would need to write to Varel and Alistair, she couldn’t delay her mission any longer but they could handle it. The healer had insisted she wash and change out of her soiled armor into inquisition robes. It had been a blessing, but she still felt gritty and foul, as if some remnant of the nightmare's touch had been left on her skin. She sighed seeing the faint light flickering in Cullen’s tent. It was somewhat removed from the main camp and she was glad. She could just make out his seated silhouette dancing against the canvas, she felt her tension loosen slightly, the anxiety and terror of the day beginning to relax its hold. Entering the tend she saw him waiting for her, his golden eyes piecing in the darkness.  
“Come here,” he said his voice low, something in it made her breath catch in her throat. “Now.” He did not raise his voice but she could feel the steel in it. She moved to stand before him, her pulse beating like a trapped animal against her throat. It was if every one of her senses had suddenly dialed up. “On your knees.” She knelt, the earth was hard beneath her knees. She could hear the singing of voices in the camp, the crackle of fires and the sigh of the wind as it caressed canvas. She looked up into his eyes and her mouth went dry. He reached down and grasped her chin, his grip a little too tight to be comfortable. “I am yours Solona Amell.” She felt her heart crack. “But you are also mine."  
“Yes Commander,” she said softly, her eyes down cast.  
“Look at me.” She could feel the tears threatening to overflow. “You are mine.” His golden eyes bore into her. She nodded again not trusting her voice. He released her chin and picked up something from his desk, a leather thong with a ring tied to it. "This is to remind you." He lent forward, filling her nostrils with the scent of leather, steel and something that was uniquely him. He tied the thong around her throat, the ring settling in the divot where her collarbones met. He sat back and his lip quirked in a possessive smile. He curled his finger in the ring and tugged her forward with a jerk. She gasped, her clit pulsing in arousal. He gazed heatedly at her. "This is to remind you that next time you try and volunteer up your life for someone else's debt." He tugged the ring again his face so close to hers she could feel the brush of his lips as he spoke. "It is not yours to give." His gaze softened and she felt the coldness that had made its home in her chest since the fade shatter under the tenderness. "Promise me Sol," he said softly his voice holding a strained note she had never heard before.  
"Cullen," she gasped the pain in her chest a visceral thing, tears began to roll down her cheeks. "I promise." He growled pulling her up and onto his lap, her legs straddling his hips. Hungry lips met hers his tongue plundering her mouth. She reached up running her hands into his hair pulling his lips more firmly against hers. His lips moved from her mouth to her throat, his small nips made her shudder. His nips became more hungry his hands more possessive. She moaned as he bit down on the sensitive flesh were her shoulder met her neck. With a building urgency he tugged at the neck of her robe, she had not had the chance to replace her breast band after the battle and they tumbled free. He nipped his way down the curve of her breast, his teasing tongue tracing circles around the sensitive nub. She bit her lip trying not to snarl in frustration. Finally his lips found her nipple and she threw her head back, thrusting her breast more firmly into his mouth. Her moan was stifled by a calloused hand suddenly clamped over her mouth.  
"You need to be quiet now, we are in camp after all." She nodded biting her lip as he renewed his attention on her breasts. The rasp of his tongue sent bursts of pleasure. She felt his desperate desire as her own, she was alive and she was his. She surrendered to it. He was still in full armor and she could feel his cod piece pushing against her core. She rocked against it trying not to moan. "Did I say you could do that?"  
"No Commander," she said looking at him through her eyelashes, the picture of contrition. The scar on his lip twitched as he tried to repress a smile.  
"Well then I may just have to do something about that. Stand up." She pouted but did as she was told. He stood and moved behind her, she didn't turn with him but stood stock still waiting. She heard the slide of his belt being pulled through it's loops. He tugged her robe off her shoulders, leaving her top half bare. He traced the tip of the belt down her spine and she shivered. "Arms behind your back, wrists together." She complied, sighing at the bite of the leather as he bound her. "Bend over, facedown on the desk. She hissed at the feeling of the cold lacquered surface against her over sensitized nipples. Something clinked against the table surface next to her hip followed by a soft thunk, she resisted the urge to look. There was some more shuffling then silence. She strained to hear but he didn't make a sound, instead she felt his fingers tips trace her though her robes. Slowly he drew up the fabric. It whispered against her legs as he slid it higher, stopping only when her robe was reduced to a belt around her waist. He paused again she felt exposed and helpless, and the feeling shot strait to her core. She could feel the dampness between her legs, she pressed her thighs together trying to relive some of the tension. The snap of a switch against her thighs, she gasped then shuddered a soft moan escaping her lips. The mix of pain and pleasure sending her mind into a haze. "Spread your legs." She did so feeling the shock of the cold night air against her damp cunt. The groan that came from Cullen, was almost indecent. She heard the slight swish then felt the sting of the switch. She bit her lip trying not to yep, the pain burned but something in it felt good, incredibly good, as if the pain inside her had found a way out. The switch fell again and again and again. Blow after blow, not heavy but with a sweet sting that heated her skin. When the tip of his calloused finger finally brushed her nether lips she almost came on the spot. "Maker," he whispered his voice husky. This time she heard the sound of the switch hitting the ground and his fingers began to stroke her. She whimpered unable to stop herself from thrusting back against his hand, she wanted him within her.  
"Cullen please," she whispered. He swore, then there was rustling of fabric and she felt him position himself behind her. He stroked himself against her coating himself in her juices before slowly sliding himself into her. She could feel the press of his armor against her naked flesh. The image of him taking her naked and vulnerable while he was fully clothed caused her to tighten around him. Thrust hard into her his rhythm specifically tailored to bring her to the edge but not over it. With her hands bound could do nothing but surrender to his whim, each thrust clouding her mind in pleasure. It still wasn't enough she wanted him deeper, closer. He stilled thrust deep and she heard a familiar chink then felt cool oil drizzle against her rear hole. She shuddered as his finger slowly massaged the tight ring. He slowly slid a finger in and she gasped.  
"Maker yes," she moaned softly, but it was still not enough. She felt him lean forward pushing himself and his finger as deep as they would go.  
"Do you like that?"  
"Yes Commander."  
"What do you want?" He rocked against her sending her mind spinning. "You know what I want? I want to stretch you till you are ready then slide my cock into your delectable arse." He shifted his hand reaching down beside her. "Then I want to take this Orlesian aide d 'Amour that I managed to acquire and fill your cunt." She shuddered.  
"Maker yes!" She gasped, as he rocked into her again.  
"Good." He stood back up and restarted his slow teasing ministrations. She shuddered and gasped under his touch a wonton thing, mewling for more. When she was ready he withdrew from her cunt, pulling her up. He walked her on unsteady legs to the chair he had been in earlier, he sat shoving his pants down further. She could see his cock glistening with her juices. "Turn around." She did, carefully he massaged her ring and pulled her down so the blunt end of his cock was pressing against her tight sphincter. "Lower yourself onto me." Slowly she lowered herself sliding him into her tight arse. She gasped at the sensation of being filled, wanting more. He made an inarticulate sound as she sheathed him entirely. She could feel his body shaking just as hers was. He pulled her back against his chest pressing her bound arms against the cool metal of his breast plate. He stilled letting her get used to the sensation he then reached for the aid-de-amor. She saw it through a lust filled haze. It was metallic, and phallus shaped slightly smaller than Cullen. Carefully he slid it against her cunt, as it brushed her clit she moaned her whole body clenching. He bit her shoulder stifling his own gasp of pleasure which only made her clench tighter. He pressed the aid-de-amor against her opening and slid it slowly in. She rocked against him, pushing him deeper, crying out in pleasure. "Now ride me, fuck yourself with my cock." Using her legs she began to move the joint pressure of Cullen in her arse and the aide d 'Amour. In her cunt driving pushing her quickly to the edge. Each time she slid herself down she felt filled replete and then the shock of his thumb brushing her clit would spur her into movement. Each time pleasure blossomed through her, causing her legs to quake. She began to move faster her completion so close, she pushed down again and felt his teeth dig him to her shoulder as he pressed hard inside her, his thumb strumming her clit. The pressure that had been building bust in a wave of sparks across her body. She felt his teeth dig in as he muffled his roar. His hips lifting off the seat pushing himself as deep as her could go. She felt him spend himself in her arse, the throbbing spasms of his cock riding her through the last waves of orgasm. They collapsed back onto the chair breathing hard. She felt as if she was floating languid. Gently he slid out the aide d 'Amour then lifted her sliding himself out, with a rather indecent pop. Carefully he undid the belt around her wrists rubbing her hands to make sure her circulation was good. With a quiet tenderness he carried her to the cot they shared laying her down gently. She was vaugely aware of the sounds of water then a cool damp cloth wiped away the evidence of their love making. She heard him disrobe and dim the lamp. Carefully he slid in behind her wrapping his arms tightly around her.  
“Maker I love you,” he whispered into her hair.  
“I love you too,” she murmured sleepily snuggling back against him. “We’ll have to do that again sometime.” He chuckled nuzzling the back of her neck.  
“I’d like that.”  
“mmmmmm,” she mumbled her breathing quickly slowing her body relaxing against him. He tried to stay awake, to hold on the the deep moment of contentment, but sleep dragged him slowly under into its warm embrace.


	7. Returning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains spoilers for Dragon Age: The Calling, Dragon Age Vol. 1: The Silent Grove, Dragon Age Volume 2: Those Who Speak and Dragon Age Volume 3: Until We Sleep
> 
> Sorry for the delay, I can't seem to get this chapter to sit right. I will probably rework it once I have the later stuff done, but I need to push past this bit for my own sanity and so I can get to the next smutty bits. :) 
> 
> Sorry for the lack of smutt in this chapter next chapter will be extra smutty I swear :)

~~~ 3 months later ~~~

~~~ Skyhold ~~~

He felt like he was going mad, every time a the hoof beats of a messenger on the bridge the heavy foot falls up the stairs he would hold his breath. Would today bring a message or would today be THE day. It had been months, at first the letters had flowed freely updates about her journey amusing anecdotes from small road side taverns, sweet nothings and steamy recollections. Then they had become more sporadic. A stained letter from a worried courier, another from a terrified dwarf, the latter had handed over the torn and icor smeared note with news that the letter had come through the legion of the dead. That had been the last one. He could still see the final lines in his minds eye.

_'I will be going were very few non-tainted have ever been. I will make every effort to return safe, I have do have a promise to keep after all….But if I do not send word in three months I fear the worst will have befallen me. If that happens know I love you and my last thoughts would have been of you.'_

So he had waited…. and waited… and waited… two months and now three. His mind constantly replaying their last night together or simply the last sight he had of her as she had parted ways from the marching lines of inquisition forces. The Emerald Graves had been a distraction, if you could call it that, but the din of battle had faded now and all that was left was the overwhelming dread. Anxiety for Thedas, his troops, the Inquisition and Solona, always Solona. Gritting his teeth, he set his shoulders refusing to believe that she had fallen, not after all they had gone through. She would return. Yet every time he lay in his bed the empty space beside him gaped, a crack through which the demons would nibble. So he slept only when exhaustion gave him no choice. He trained hard and worked harder. He knew from pointed suggestions Rylen had been giving him that he was probably looking a little worse for wear. What else could he do? In stopping lay madness. Exhaustion pulled at him now and the war table blurred. In his minds eye he could see her map of the deep roads. Where would she be now? Would she be making her way back or would her broken bleeding body lying somewhere under the pencil marked lines, or even further under the area of vague notes and question marks? He had seen so many battles his mind conjured up all the vicious details. Slumped against the wall struggling to summon enough magic to heal herself, the metallic scent of blood mixing with the sweet odour of icor. The distinctive wheeze of a punctured lung. A trickle of blood beginning to form at the edge of her lip, bubbling slightly as she struggled to breathe. The vision clawed at him raking it's vicious claws across his heart. He was startled out of his painful revery by one of Leliana’s agents. They were often seen making their hasty way across Skyhold but they had never entered the war room during one of the inquisitors briefings. Bending discreetly to Leliana’s ear they murmured something then passed her a small missive, turning to leave as swiftly as they had come. Leliana unfolded the small note, her gaze fixed intently on whatever it contained. He felt his chest tighten and had to force himself to breathe, like as not the note had nothing to do with Solona. He forced himself to look away from the spy master trying to get his mind to focus on Josephine’s summary of some lord or other’s proposal to the inquisition. Like all offers of its kind it was part entreaty part valid insults, his head ached at the futility of dealing with such people.  
“Inquisitor, If I may…” Leliana spoke up carefully injecting herself into the conversation. “I need to borrow the Commander for the moment. I only suggest it as you and Josie seem to have the details of these negotiations well in hand.” The Inquisitor nodded. Cullen felt the panic tighten around him like a vice.  
“Of course,” The Inquisitor said and quickly going back to his discussion with the ambassador. Leliana caught his eye and motioned for him to follow. He did, feeling like a man being lead to the gallows. She stopped when they reached Josephine’s office, turning to him and holding out the missive.  
He took it carefully, unfolding it to gaze down on the single line of text written on the scrap of paper.

_'Tell Cullen I am coming home. Sol.'_

He felt relief crash over him. So immense that he collapsed against the desk, his whole body shaking. He looked up an the spy master, his head spinning with questions but his voice was nowhere to be found.  
“Last word from my scouts is that she is in Ferelden."  
“W….” He tried again, his throat constricting with the effort. “Where? When? I…Thank you.” Leliana smiled at him.  
"She used one of the emergency communication networks I set up. My informant say she was last seen leaving the Brecilian Forest headed towards Denerim. I assume she will need to report back to Alistair before she can return...."  
“She…. will return,” he sighed. 'She is coming home.’ Elation and exhaustion welled within him.  
“Now you should get some rest…... You look terrible.” He felt a guilty smile tug at is lips.  
“Did she tell you to look after me?”  
Leliana shrugged noncommittaly. “Solona believed in me when no one else would. She was my friend through some of my darkest hours and I in hers.” She turned her gaze back to him. "I was with her in the circle. I saw what she went through seeing all she had known destroyed, watch her step over the bodies of people she had counted as family.” Cullen looked at the floor, he didn’t want to think of that time. He hadn’t known that Leliana had been there. At the time he had had eyes only for Solona. “Unlike the others I knew she had loved a templar. She never said anything but the relief in her face when we found you said it all… as did the tears she shed afterward.” She sighed her eyes growing sad. "I watched as Alistair, in his own charming way, help her to heal. I watched a love forged in blood and fire, given up for duty. Kept alive in snatched moments behind closed doors, until that too became lost to her.” She looked back at him her gaze sharp. “She gave everything to Thedas without asking anything in return. If there is anything I can do to make sure she knows she is loved. I will do it.” She smiled a little ruefully “Even if it simply means making sure you look after yourself."  
He felt a deep ache in his chest. He would happily swear the rest of his life to the cause of showing Solona just how loved she was. “Thank you.” Leliana nodded, and turned to leave. " ...Thank you for being there when I couldn’t.” She tilted her head and looked at him in that unnerving way she did, when she was suggesting an efficient but deadly solution to a problem.  
“See that you are there for her now,” she said quietly and left.

~~~ Outskirts of Denerim ~~~

The fields and pastures had slowly given way to the large hulking buildings of the tanners and dyers encircled by the small rustic houses of their workers. She could see families through the small windows of their houses picturesque vignettes of a life style she had never known, nor ever would. Sighing she lightly stroked her mare’s mane. It’s weariness only exceeded by her own. She had made progress, that was true. She had found an enchantment in the Architect’s abandoned laboratory, that could be used to accelerate or reverse the symptoms of the taint’s progression. It could give her more time, as it had for the legionnaires she had tested it on, but it was not a cure. There was some other component. Some unknown element at play. Hopefully Alistair could give some clue to the next steps. Setting her eyes again on the City walls, she smiled, it was not perfect but a bath, food and bed was still a reason to be glad.

The mirror before her reflected a stranger. Dark haunted eyes and a face whose roundness had given away to sharp edges. The scent of lavender wafted up from the dress as it moved. The maid had done an excellent job, making the old mothballed dress fit to wear. Turning she eyed herself critically. The dark blue wool hung much more loosely than it should, but she had limited time and options. And there was nothing she could do about the neckline, the angry puckered line of her newest darkspawn souvenir extended well beyond its reach. The memory of the Hurlock's blade slashing across her torso still made her wince, she could still vividly remember the feel of the blade’s tip passing within millimetres of her face. With a resigned sigh she began to weave her hair into the traditional coronet, pinning it in place with the long pins the maid had found her. She had arrived in Denerim ready to drop in the early hours of the morning. The palace guard, luckily one of the older ones from the battle for Denerim, had shown her to her apartments and procured a bath. By the time she was clean they had laid out a veritable feast. Full and exhausted she fell into bed, not before getting off a quick letter to Cullen. She ached to see him, to be held by him, to know that he was ok. In her minds eye she could still see the words, they were not enough, they would have never been enough, but it was something.

_'Cullen,_

_There is so much I want to say, so many things that I want to tell you, but I am trying to get this missive out with the morning runner and am pressed for time. I am well, only a couple of new scars to show for my travails. I have just arrived in Denerim to fill the King in on what I have discovered. If he doesn’t strip me of my lands and title for all that I have done, I will have to visit Vigils keep. I have been somewhat negligent in my duties and the letters from Seneschal Varel have become rather pointed. I know that your responsibilities with the Inquisition keep you busy but if they could spare you for a time you would be more than welcome to spend some time at the Keep. I should be on my way there by the time this missive reaches you. I will write more tomorrow._

_Yours,_

_Sol.'_

She knew asking him to join her had been selfish, but there were times in the deep roads where it had almost felt like their time together had been some sort of hopeful dream. The loneliness that had been her constant companion after Alistair's dismissal had been heavier to bare after Adamant. She looked at herself, her eye catching on the ring that hung bold and heavy at her throat. Gazing at it the tightness in her chest lessened slightly, she would see him soon what ever happened. Tegan, Alistair’s Uncle, had come by briefly to let her know that 'the King would see her that evening'. She knew Alistair would be furious. Sending a missive rather than returning to Denerim to fill him in on the events at Adamant had guaranteed that, but the curtness of Tegan’s visit had her worried. Even with all that had happened between them her heart still ached at the thought of seeing Alistair again. The flutter was a shadow of the ache she felt for Cullen, but it was still there. With one last pin in her hair her transformation to Arlessa was complete. A soft knock sounded. Opening the door she saw Alistair’s groomsman standing stiffly, his cuffs starched to within an inch of their life.  
“The King will see you now,” he said with a curt bow.  
“Of course,” she gave the appropriate responding tilt of the head, she was an Arlessa after all. “One moment I will just grab some things.” Ducking back int the room she grabbed the wrapped pile of books and papers she had taken from the architect's study. While the taint had not really touched the study, the scent of it still hung over the bundle. Alistair’s groomsman lead her through the familiar hallways, toward his private study. Reaching the door, she paused letting a servant open the door and announce her presence. Stepping into the room she couldn't help but smile slightly. Unlike the rest of the castle this room was wholly Alistair. Book shelves covered all available walls and on them a full library with runes, figurines and statuettes scattered on every free horizontal surface. A large tatty and over stuffed couch sat in front of the hearth. She could see signs of Duncan too, an abandoned toy here a muddy scuff mark there. Finally she let her eyes settle on Alistair’s desk which was piled high with ledgers, letters and reports. Alistair sat in the middle of the mire his head in his hands. Even from this distance she could see the darkness that circled his eyes. The usual feathering of smile lines at their corners fainter, the creases at his brow deeper, his face hollow and drawn. He looked up at the sound of her steps and his golden brown eyes met hers. His beloved face hardened and his eyes flashed in the lamp light. Anger, fear, pain, worry and exhaustion fighting for dominance, anger won.  
“Leave us.” He said sharply though she could have sworn the groomsman had started his retreat well before Alistair even spoke. With a click the door shut and they were alone. Carefully she put her bundle on the floor and stepped forward.  
“Ali I’m s--”  
“NO!” He slammed his fist down on his desks so hard a pile of papers tottered and fell. He stood his body shaking, but with rage or weariness she couldn’t tell. He moved around the desk slowly, stalking towards her. “You are an Arlessa of Ferelden. A title I awarded you. Shirking your duties to go on your secret mission that I can forgive. But working with an foreign force to build an army at boarders of Ferelden...” he was closer now. “Then you capitulated in the expulsion of the Wardens from southern Thedas. You let a foreign power try and dictate law in my Kingdom,” another step, he was using his extra few inches in height to great effect. "You betrayed your Bothers and Sisters in the order.” He was so close to her now she could feel the heat and the rage emanating from him.  
“I didn’t—“  
“And then,” he continued as if she had never spoken. “Instead of coming to me and fulfilling your duty, to inform me of the events, you wrote a letter. Disappearing into the deep roads... alone….No word for months. I had to write to Harrowmont to see what has happened and you know what he said? He could only tell me is that you had gone into the tunnels alone and hadn’t been seen or heard of since.” She took as step backwards and he grabbed her arm tightly. “What was I supposed to think?" She had never seen him this angry.  
“I was trying to save you!” She shot back. Her own stress from the past moths cresting. They stared a each other neither giving ground. It was then she saw it underneath the rage, pain and fear. He had thought she had gone on her Long Walk. That she had given up and walked like a true Warden to her own death. She swallowed trying to find the words.  
“Ali everything I did, I did for you … for your .. I had to find a way… Duncan… I couldn’t…” The words felt so inadequate. It was at that moment that his rage shattered. With a rough jerk he pulled her forward his lips meeting hers with a demanding pressure. It was so sudden her mind failed to process what was happening. Gone was the old bashfulness, the inexperienced hesitancy. He kissed like a king, commanding and confident. Her lips parted and his tongue stroked hers with a hungry desire. One of his hands slid to her backside pulling her hard against him, the other tangled in her hair keeping her trapped against him. She made an inarticulate sound, a moan or a whimper, she couldn't tell. He swallowed the sound with a sound of his own. His hand on her arse pulled her in tighter his grip so hard it was producing a delicious ache. Her hands ran up into his hair pulling him more firmly into the kiss. It was possessive, commanding and rough. It has been so long. In the early days he would come to her suite when the wine or Aanora drove him to it. With a jolt he shifted lifted her with both hands and pressing her back against the wall, without thinking her legs came up and wrapped about his waist. She could feel the length of him pressing her though their clothes. She whimpered as he rocked against her unexpected pleasure shooting though her. He groaned and pulled away, she let her legs drop and he turned away. She felt bereft unstable, the world had just plunged out of control. She swayed, her mind a fuzzy mess of confusing need.  
“Maker’s breath..." he croaked his voice husky and unstrung, he cleared his throat and turned back to her. His breath was coming hard his chest rising and falling as if he had run a marathon but, his eyes were dark, dilated till all that remained was blackness. He looked awed, almost shocked, as if the intensity of the kiss had caught him by as much surprise as it had her. “I’m sorry Sol…. It.. I didn’t me--" The soft knock came from the door. He muttered something under his breath before responding, his voice was clear and firm. “One moment.” Stepping back to her he gripped her chin firmly, tilting her face up to his.  
“Don’t scare me like that again Sol.…” She smiled a little sadly.  
“I drive you crazy.” He chuckled, his hand shifting to cup her cheek, his thumb stroking it unconsciously. Biting her lip she met his gaze and felt her heart clench he was looking at her the way he used to, as if the world could fall to dust but as long as they were together it would be ok.  
“But I can’t imagine being without you… not ever,” he whispered. Her already taught emotions twanged. The scent of a campfire, soft kisses, star lit evenings, the feel of his stubble scraping her throat. Closing his eyes he took a slow breath and carefully stepped away. She took her own shuddering breath, the old ache returned sharp gnawing. She would always love him and he her, but he had his own family now and she… for the first time she had someone... she had Cullen. With a self control he had not possessed in his youth, Alistair composed his features in to one of stoic regality. “Yes William.” The door opened and the starched groomsman appeared at the doorway.  
“I am sorry for the intrusion your majesty, but the Queen asks for you assistance the young prince is in need of your attention.” Alistair smiled, and it was as if the sun had broken through the clouds.  
“Bed time?”  
“Just so, your highness.” William tilted his head. Alistair turned to her his expression a warring mix of emotions, but his deep love of his son shone though all of it..  
“Sol... I’m sorry... It won’t take too long…”  
“Go, he is your son.” Solona gave the proper bow of acquiescence to the king. She saw Alistair's lip twitch, a momentary grimace and she smiled inwardly. He was still Alistair behind that royal facade. “I will wait here at your pleasure... your highness.” He turned to William, his regal composure cracking just slightly.  
“Please have the servants bring up some wine and food. The Arlessa and I have a lot to discuss."  
“As you wish, your majesty.”  
“I’ll be back shortly,” he said before making his way out the door. William nodded to her and she smiled. With a palpable feeling of relief she turned to pick up the bundle of books and papers. Carefully she deposited the bundle on the only clear surface in the room, a low table in between the couch and the hearth. She sighed taking a deep breath trying to settle her emotions. The kiss had been unexpected, she new it was just his carefully guarded restraint snapping. It would not, could not, happen again. She loved Alistair and surprisingly she didn’t resent Anora, in fact she felt a strange fondness for the woman. She had helped Alistair navigate the pitfalls of Ferelden politics. Had helped him grow into the monarch he was today. She tried to see Anora through Alistair’s eyes, brave, determined, fighting for the nation she loved. They would never be best friends, but she cared about her for Alistair’s sake. She loved Cullen deeply and passionately, he was her first, a sharp love complicated and messy. She loved Alistair too that love was simpler, gentler, a love based on friendship, deep affection and laughter. Looking at the feelings twisting inside her she knew she loved and desired both men, but each love was unique. Neither was lessened by the love of the other, in fact, each love felt richer, deeper, for the duality. She sighed thinking on it would do little good, Alistair had made his views on the matter clear many years ago, one slip up would not change that. Nor would she want it too, she had her own commitments she was no longer to be at the mercy of Alistair’s guilt. She moved to examine the figurines he had scattered about the shelves. There were Dwarven, Dalish, Orlesian and even a few Qunari pieces. She smiled finding an old small dragon statuette, tucked into a corner clearly visible from the couch. The worn stone slightly warm, from the proximity of the hearth. She remembered the boyish grin her had had when he gave it to him. He had kissed her that night, it had been their first. She chuckled his face had turned bright mottled red as he stuttered his concern that it had been to soon. Putting it back she moved on. She would have to see if Dorian could source her some pieces from Tevinter. Alistair may have to hide them from view, given the number of chantry dignitaries that made their way through his life, but he would love it. The door opened and she turned, a young man came in carrying a bottle of wine on a tray with two glasses, another followed with a tray of meats, cheeses and sliced bread. She moved her bundle to the floor and they placed the trays on the low table, leaving quietly. Pouring herself a glass of wine she moved to peruse the bookshelves. Her eyes caught on a large rather old looking text. 'The Noble house of Theirin: Lineage and Deeds' well if she was looking for a hint to what in Alistair’s bloodline could have affected taint it was as good a place to start as any. Carefully she tugged the book from the shelf, the cover seemed loose the earlier pages yellowed with time, the later pages crisp and fresh. It was a book with regular updates. Settling herself on the comfortable couch she opened the book near the end looking for the last entry.

_'Alistair the long lost son of Maric the Saviour succeeded to the throne after the tragic death of his brother Calin….'_ She snorted, long lost that was a nice way of saying unwanted bastard child. She shifted turning to the front of the book and a stack of folded papers fell out of the back. Picking it up she saw Alistair’s untidy scrawl. Curiosity got the better of her and she unfolded them. _'I don’t know where to begin this or even if I should write it, but I need to get it out ...’_ As she read her frown deepened. Alistair’s words, scattered and halting, told a strange story. He had gotten wind of a rumour that his father had not in fact died at sea but been captured by the Antivan crows. He had tracked down a document which seemed to substantiate the rumour. It seemed that his father had been captured, then been broken free by another of Flemeth’s daughters, Yavana, to Fulfill a promise he had made to Flemeth. Yavana wanted to use his the power of Maric's blood, the blood of King Calenhad, to revive dragons slumbering in a place he called the 'Hall of Sleepers'. It seems that this plan too failed, Maric was captured and taken by another before he could help revive the dragons. Following the trail Alistair had then crossed paths with Sten, who had told him that as a descendant of King Calenhad, Maric’s blood contained dragon's blood. It was because of the power in his blood that Maric had been imprisoned by a Tevinter magister named Aurelian Titus on Sehron. He described finding his own father in some twisted machine called a Magrallen. ‘I wish I could talk to her, but I am afraid if I do I’ll never stop. She would understand, she faced the archdemon with me, she would understand….. But I gave up that path when I took up my duty, sometimes though I wish I could take it all back, that she was here with me instead of—‘ She stopped reading, she could not read this, not now. She folded the papers and tucked them back into the cover of the book. Leaning back she breathed out a long breath, dragons blood. Could that be the key? She was so deep in thought that she didn’t hear Alistair enter until he flopped onto the couch next to her. He closed his eyes and reclined into the soft padding.  
“Maker Sol, it is getting so loud. I am no sure how much longer I can stand it. Please tell me you found something.” She reached forward and touched his cheek, watching his face relax slightly at the contact.  
“I did.” Alistair’s eyes snapped open and he looked at her intense and focused, a King’s stare.  
“Tell me.”  
“First can I try something on you? I promise I will explain everything, but after all this time I need to know if you are the key.” He blinked confused, with a shrug he nodded. Raising her hands she concentrated. The chant came out in the same half remembered language as the last time, but this time she felt something pushing with her. A gold magic, something ancient and powerful. Alistair drew in a sharp breath, but she continued pushing. She had reached the limit of the enchantment, but this time she could felt golden fire inside him continuing even as the enchantment sputtered and failed. Alistair hissed, his eyes widening, she could feel the golden warmth pulse, bright as a star then cool. Alistair sat still breathing hard and brought his hand across his face. He looked at her his eyes wide.  
"I can’t hear it…” He began to laugh and with that laughter she watched as the the weight of years lift off him. He turned to her his face split in a his old boyish smile. He started to move then stopped suddenly. His gaze fixed to her arm, the loose sleeve of her dress had slipped a bit as her hands has risen exposing the soft pale skin of her forearms and the dark spider webs beginning to form. “Solona!” She pulled it back but he was quicker his own hand grasped her's and he shoved the sleeve of her dress up the skin on her inner elbow had taken on a blueish-black bruised look. The air hissed through his teeth a quiet curse, his face twisting in a pained grimace. His golden eyes met hers with an aching solemnity. “Tell me everything.”  
So she did. He sat stoic as she poured our her quest, her hunt through the warden archives, the architect, Marric and Fiona and their journey into the deep roads. Her quest to Skyhold, Fiona’s admission that she was Alistair’s mother. Adamant and then her trek to find the architects lab. As she talked she pulled out maps books and papers, pointing out what she had found and what she had guessed. Then she pulled out the notes from the back of Alistair’s book.  
“This was the missing piece, the power in your blood amplifies the chant, taking it and pushing the last of the taint out of your system. If Fiona is anything to go by you are now immune to the taint and all its effects.” She paused, the strength of the calling distracting her for a moment. She gritted her teeth and continued. “I will need you to send all this,” she waved her hands at the notes and books. “To Avernus and a vial or your blood if you are willing. I am hoping he can isolate the magic boost that your blood gives and eventually find a more widely applicable cure.” Alistair sat looking into the fire his face unreadable. She had done her part, Duncan would have a father for a long time to come. "Alistair.. Love…” He looked at her at her his face taut.  
“I exiled my own mother…. I… I… You… you are….. I don’t know what to do…. I need some time to think…” He stopped looking down at his own hands. She stood kissing him lightly on the forehead, feeling the weight of her own death looming.  
“I am leaving in the morning for Vigil’s keep. I need to get things there in order…. and I have some people I have to see.”


End file.
